Always Broken, Forever Loved
by Radioactive88
Summary: Fifteen years ago, a certain Amy and Jessica Kaslova were born and the world hasn't been the same since. They're trouble in every sense of the word, but everything takes a turn for the worse when they run from the police straight to New Orleans where they meet the Mikaelsons, and a certain Original Hybrid who finds his connection to them runs far deeper than anybody imagined.
1. Catch Us If You Can

**A/N: Happy Fanworks Day and happy Presidents' Day! On this very special day, we've decided to post a fic we've been working on for a little while now, based on the hit CW show "The Originals." We are insanely in love with that show, and even with how horrible and everything Klaus is, WE LOVE KLAUS! We just can't help but adore him. Don't worry, though, we still love us some Elijah and Kol :). Rebekah is a freakin' awesome badass, and, well, nobody likes Finn.**

 **Okay, so, here's some stuff you need to know before reading this. It'll be pretty obvious early on what the twins' connection to Klaus is. This takes place a couple years after season 2, and season 3 hasn't happened. Although we may bring Lucien, Aurora, and Tristan into this story. Basically, the Mikaelson family is piecing itself back together. Kol and Finn are back in their Original Vampire bodies, Freya is living in the compound, etc. Hayley and Jackson are married and live with three-year-old Hope, but Haylijah's going to be the endgame. So, if you're a Jackson fan . . . so sorry. There may be some possible Klamille, but she's human right now. Hmmmm . . . that about covers it.**

 **Warning: Amy and Jessica Kaslova begin this story as terrible influences with underage . . . essentially everything. They are** ** _not_** **meant to be role models. They were given up at birth into the foster system and had no semblance of stability or family love, except from each other and later somebody named Leon. This story is partially about their redemption as they learn how to survive with different lifestyle choices.**

 **Extra warning: There's some profanity, that's why along with the whole "bad influence" thing, we decided to rate this story "M."**

 **Anyway, please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :)**

 **Disclaimer: We aren't Julie Plec, and we do not own the Originals. No Klaus for us. :( However, we do own Amy, Jessica, and Leon, as well as any other OCs we create later on.**

 **Chapter 1: Catch Us if You Can**

 **Amy's perspective**

The blinding sunlight rudely awoke me from my fanciful dreams of a killer party with the best music ever (duh, my sister and I chose it), a plethora of booze and pot, and a whole lot of _great_ sex.

"Mmmmm," I groaned, burying my face into my pillow. The light was pure torture in its worst form- why did it hurt _so damn much?_ Wait, was I hungover . . . ? My pounding head made it difficult for me to separate my dreams from reality.

Eyes shut firmly tight, I abruptly sat up and a wave of pain coursed through my skull. "Ow," I whimpered. "Why do I never think about this part when I'm drinking? Every time, every damn time . . ."

I reluctantly peeled open my eyes and gasped at the scene before me. Bottles of vodka, tequila, and whiskey littering my floor like candy wrappers, extinguished joints of marijuana, and the real doozy . . . _a stranger sleeping next to me in my bed_.

"Oh dear God." Scooting backwards as quickly as possible, I tumbled unceremoniously out of my bed and landed with a hard thud on a passed out teenage boy. He only shifted in his sleep and muttered something unintelligible.

It occurred to me then that I was naked as the day I was born, so I pawed through the dresser my sister and I shared and threw on underclothes, a pair of mini jean shorts, and a tank top. It turns out, there were more people asleep around my bedroom and I fought back a snicker . . . which promptly died away as my head betrayed me once again. "Ow, c'mon!"

The boy in my bed was fast asleep and rather handsome, with scruffy brown hair and a decent tan and reasonably sized muscles. Tapping my forehead, I murmured, using a Jimmy Neutron reference on purpose even though nobody could hear me, "Think, think, _think_." _Did I really sleep with him? I don't even remember._

 _Did I sleep with him or not?!_ A flash of memory burned through my mind and a slight blush crept to my cheeks- yes, yes I did. Oh well, he was a good lay.

My twin sister, Jessie, was nowhere to be found. "Jessie?" I hissed as softly as I could as to not wake anybody up. " _Jessie, where are you?"_ I searched my room thoroughly and finally decided to try our shared bathroom- bingo. "My _eyes!_ "

Well, there was image I didn't need to see. My sister was sleeping soundly in our bathtub with an empty bottle of vodka near her head and a stranger by her side- the two of them very much without clothes. He was good-looking, tall, African American, lean . . . I just didn't need to see as much of him as I did.

Jessie's messy tangles of blonde hair, sky blue-streaked hair were damp- it appeared that halfway through the night she and her new friend decided to take a shower together, and once done with that were too lazy to leave the bathtub. _Indolent fuckers._ At least they remembered to turn the water off, thank the heavens for small favors.

"Jessie, wake your skinny ass up." I kicked the side of the tub for good measure and her normally bright, alert green eyes fluttered open.

"Wha- what am I doing here?" she slurred, unsticking the side of her face from the side of the bathtub. "When did I-" And that, ladies and gentlemen, was when she noticed the boy right besides her. "When did _that_ happen?"

I tossed a towel over to her so she could regain a little modesty. She gingerly separated herself from the boy's arms (he was a cuddler all right) and I explained, "It was a crazy party last night. I woke up in bed with some guy I hardly know- met 'im last night."

Clumsily making her way out of the tub, she countered me with, "Ooooooh, yeah! Hey, well, same here- except I didn't get to awake in a nice comfy bed. Do you know what it feels like to sleep in a freaking bathtub with no water all night?" She wrenched her neck to the side and it popped with a satisfactory crack. " _Do you?"_

"I think you did a little more than sleep," I said lightly and she rolled her eyes, then flinched.

"Ow, pain, ow. Damn vodka." She massaged her temple. "Curse the universe and all its inhabitants."

"That includes you, nimrod." She, having no response for that, fished through our dresser and after putting on undergarments, wore a pair of skinny jeans and a _Led Zeppelin_ T-shirt that she shaped into a tank top and a crop top. It lowered to her upper ribs and revealed her midriff, so I playfully poked her in the stomach. She batted my hand away- she was extremely ticklish, which I consistently used to my advantage.

An annoying buzzing sound sounded from somewhere in my bedroom and when I vouched to ignore it, the little bugger persisted. "Might want to answer," Jessie said off-handedly, running a brush through her wavy locks of hair. "Might be Leon."

Leon was a business associate, per se. He hooked us up with music gigs and robbery opportunities alike. Interesting guy, committed countless crimes yet never seemed to be arrested for them. He had more than one trick hidden up his sleeve. "I doubt it, we just scored big time. He'll leave us alone for a while." Nonetheless, I searched for my cheap cell phone.

See, we performed a very successful theft the previous day. Leon threw us in the wealthy man's orbit after developing a few shady clients who had an eye on one of his pricey antiques. It was a profitable business. We stole the merchandise, Leon sold it to his clients, we split the sum they paid us for it. At least it kept Jessie and I off the streets and put a roof over our heads.

Yesterday, I donned a stylish auburn wig to cover my blonde, magenta-streaked hair and pretended (rather well) to be a high-level prostitute- who was not a minor. Leon, who buddied up to him, talked me up to a nearly superhuman extreme. I had no intentions in sleeping with the man, but I needed to distract him long enough for my sister to find the antique.

So, we chatted, flirted, sipped at expensive champagne. He was growing antsy so I warded him off with lust-filled (on his part) make-out sessions until he was drunk enough for me to complete my part of the plan. I slipped a mixture of drugs into his champagne and he knocked out like a light. There were roofies so he wouldn't remember my face, and a date rape kind of drug to knock him out. And it did, perfectly.

Leon, earlier that week, had found a way to disable the security alarms so Jessie could break in without worry of capture. He had sent a few lackeys in to pinpoint where the antique was a few days prior. Not to obtain it, but for a brief in-and-out location mission. Jessie was good at what she did, real good, and Leon wanted to leave it to her. She had a surprising knack for locks, combinations, and safes just as I had a flare for acting and lying.

Anyway, as the man and I were getting familiar with each other, Jessie (she later recalled to me her part of the plan, after it was finished) had her ear to the safe in the lower left wing of his enormous library, fishing for the combination. She cracked the lock and stole the antique, making absolute sure to leave no fingerprints (her black gloves came in handy).

And then we were gone. She had been wearing a wig as well to not leave any DNA evidence in the form of hair and I had to talk her out of throwing it up in the air in celebration. In a different kind of celebration, we called over all our friends and their friends and the friends' friends to our apartment for a monster party. It was a _miracle_ nobody called the cops.

There was this . . . _special_ thing about the two of us that enhanced our criminal abilities. You see, we had these _powers_ that weren't exactly natural. Supernatural, even. We both possessed a form of telekinesis that was especially helpful when breaking into safes and the like. We had no idea why, and had no idea what we truly were, but Leon just told us we were _special_. Only he knew.

I digress, I digress. I finally found my cell phone on my nightstand and slid it open. There were three missed calls and four new texts; I decided to read the texts first. Akin to Jessie's predictions, they were from Leon.

The first one was from midnight.

 _Hey, Amy baby, I know you're probably partying right now, but we need to talk. Call me._

A few hours later:

 _A little birdy told me that we might be outed. Need to talk. Call me. I'll leave a message, even though you're not picking up. Tell your sister to turn her phone on._

Only an hour ago:

 _What the fuck are you doing? Answer your fucking phone. We're outed. The cops are onto us. They came to my door and are off to interrogate my clients next. CALL ME BACK._

Just a few minutes ago:

 _Answer your fucking phone, you bitch. The asshole clients stabbed us in the back for a deal with the police. We're done. The police are after me right now. CALL. ME._

I collapsed to my knees. My hands were trembling out of control and my heartrate was off the charts. "Oh God, no, no." Jessie looked over to me with concern.

"What is it? What's the matter? Is it Leon?"

My voice quivering, I answered with a simple, "We're fucked," before calling Leon back.

He picked up on the first ring and instantly dove into me. "Where the hell have you and Jessie _been?!_ What the hell is wrong with you, bitch?!"

I fought to keep my cool and replied calmly, "Cut the bollocks, Leon, I'm here now. What is going on?"

Jessie kneeled down beside me and anxiously yanked out individual strands of beige carpet. She was no idiot; she knew something was terribly, terribly wrong. "Turns out that one of my clients is a double agent. The police have been looking to bring me down for years. But they ratted you out, too. It's only a matter of time before they're at your doorstep. Run. Leave the city, even the state if you can." A siren blared in the background and then abruptly ceased. "They're here. They're fucking here. Look, just get the fuck out, okay? I'll try to contact you soon." With that, he hung up.

My entire body wanted to freeze and shut down, but there was no time for that. I immediately jumped into action, throwing open my closet to pull out my emergency duffel bag. Jessie scrambled to her feet and demanded, "Amy, what the bloody hell is going on? Talk to me."

"Get your emergency bag," I ordered her coldly, too panicked to be in any way nice about this. "The police are onto us."

Her expression shifted into a split second into a look of sheer terror. "We're boned!"

"Jessie!" I struggled to lower my volume to not awaken any of our unwanted roommates. "Pack up your shit, then we've got to go. Remember to pack up your pills, too."

She didn't need any more encouragement, which was good, because if she protested I probably would have tossed her out the window. I rapidly shoved my feet into my favorite pair of combat boots and positioned my saxophone case near my duffel bag. Summoning up all my breath, I hollered, "EVERYONE GET UP! YOU HEARD ME, WAKE UP!"

Moaning and bitching, most of our guests stirred from their deep sleep. My bed buddy asked nearly incoherently, "Hey, baby, what's goin' on?"

Jessie arrived at my doorway with her duffel bag, and her own instruments' cases. "You heard the lady. EVERYONE GET OUT BEFORE I CHOOSE THIS PRECISE MOMENT TO EXACT MY MURDEROUS RAMPAGE!" The dresser tipped over and crashed into the ground right when the words left her mouth, though most everyone most likely was not smart enough to realize that no, that was _not_ a coincidence. We tended to have trouble controlling our power during fits of anger or excitement.

Even with the severity of the situation, I couldn't help but snicker a bit. Her word choice was always flavorful and entertained me greatly. And boy, did they leave. The naked ones hastily dressed themselves, even the boy in our bathtub, and then they were gone. Our new "lovers" tried to spark up a conversation with us, but once we made it clear we'd physically kick them out if necessary, they got the memo and left with the others.

I searched for our emergency stack of cash and stuffed it in my duffel bag. "You ready?" Not giving her any time to answer me, I said, "Let's go."

We were out of the apartment building in the blink of an eye. We _had_ to skip town before the cops arrived. Sure, we had been arrested before, but nothing _like this_. This was heavy, and signified some serious jail time. And orange jumpsuits were just not my color.

"Let's go to the train station," my sister panted alongside me and in agreement, I led the way. The two of us were garnering strange looks left and right as we tore through the streets and hopped into the nearest taxi like a crazy ax-murderer was on our tail.

The taxi driver was the human equivalent of a sloth, so I ripped out a crisp twenty from our cash pile and said, "You'll get another one of these every ten minutes this as a tip if you hurry your ass up to the nearest train station." He slammed the gas pedal to the floor.

"Any particular idea where to go?" I prompted Jessie as the cab jerked around and zoomed down the road.

"No, not really." She shrugged, even though I could tell our planless escape was bothering her. "Ought to leave Manhattan, though, probably New York entirely. Start afresh somewhere new. We could just buy the tickets to the train that leaves the earliest."

"Sounds good to me." I lost another twenty dollar bill along with the actual total before the driver dropped us off at the station. We, rather lost, wandered around until we stumbled onto the nearest ticket booth.

I cut down straight into business mode. "When does your earliest train leave?"

The young, perky ticket lady chewed on green chewing gum with obnoxious pops as she looked over the schedule. "You aren't from around here, are you? Sound like you're fresh out of England." When we just impatiently awaited the schedule listings, she added, "Train to where, hon? Are your pare-"

"We'd like a train going anywhere but here," Jessie interrupted rudely. "What do you have?"

Giving her the evil eye through her hipster-style glasses, she grumbled, "We have a train to New Orleans leaving in ten minutes."

Exchanging a look of confirmation with Jessie, I looked back to the lady and said strongly, "We'll take it."


	2. Party in Our Blood

**A/N: Okay, so, first off: THANK YOU! We posted only one chapter, and we've received one review (thanks Savily!), four favorites, and six follows! That's freaking AWESOME and it's all thanks to you fantastic readers! You guys are the most spectacular awesome sauce . . . okay, we're done.**

 **'Kay, so our lovely review asked how we picture Amy and Jessica, and though we answered in a PM, we figured we'd mention it here for everyone to know. Amy we sort of picture as a shoulder-length hair, teenage version of Eliza Taylor (Clarke from "The 100"). She also has magenta hair streaks.**

 **Update: Before, we mentioned that we pictured Jessie like Hayden Panettiere from "Heroes," but upon watching a bit of "Secret Circle," we found that we picture Jessie almost exactly like a younger version of Cassie (played by Britt Robertson), except with the electric blue hair streaks and other accessories, etc.**

 **This chappy is in Jessie's perspective after they arrive in New Orleans, and though no Mikaelsons are in this chapter, they're going to meet them very soon. And next chapter, we have a section in Klaus's perspective. Well, that's all we have to say, so please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :D**

 **Disclaimer: We aren't Julie Plec, and we do not own the Originals. No Klaus for us. :( However, we do own Amy, Jessica, and Leon, as well as any other OCs we create later on.**

 **Chapter 2: Party in Our Blood**

The sweet, calming sounds of bluesy jazz filled my ears as I stepped out of the cab into the cool New Orleans breeze. The streets buzzed with people, many lingering and loitering, and street performers were making their livings off the awe and utter fascination of tourists.

"Hey, dreamy eyes, get your bags and let's go. Cabbie driver wants to leave and we have to find a motel and call Leon to update him," Amy reminded, smacking me on the back of my head to get my attention. Since the cops were after us, we ditched our old cell phones and were in dire need of a payphone.

Rubbing ruefully at my head, I muttered under my breath, "You don't have to be a bitch about it," and all Amy did was snicker. Grabbing my bag and instrument cases and following her down the road, I asked, "Why are you in such a hurry? We just got here and skirted the cops. They have no idea where we are. Chiiiiiiilllaaax, already, will ya? I wanna check out all the musicians."

Amy sighed, frustrated, but did nothing to slow her pace. "The way I see it, the fast he gets here and sets us up with another job, the faster we will have money to enjoy life. Until then, we're screwed," she explained. Her logic made sense, but she wasn't usually so tense.

"Hey, you all right?" I questioned cautiously, beginning to worry even more than before. Yeah, I was naturally more light-hearted than her, but she typically wasn't _this_ serious.

Her shoulders visibly lowered, the muscles loosening up. Nudging me in the side, she clarified, "Yeah, just a little frazzled. Once I have a shot of tequila and someplace to sleep I will be content."

I grinned back and twirled around the front of her, stopping her in her tracks. "I _think_ you're forgetting a part of that equation."

Amy arched an eyebrow. "And what might that be?"

I smirked and winked as cheekily as I was physically capable of. "A sexy man to keep you warm at night."

Amy laughed out loud, a full, body-encompassing laugh and we picked up our stroll once again. I continued, "If I were honest with myself I would admit that I myself participate in that last scenario. Oh, how I do love my sexy men. I can't get enough of them. Sure, they may come and go and replace themselves but the sexiness is forever." I smiled a wicked grin.

"You are a hoe, my dear sister," she joked, making a sharp turn after seeing a motel sign. "A fifteen-year-old hoe."

I feigned a gasp and childishly stomped my foot as she walked by me. Comebacks were one of my specialities and one was just sizzling on the tip of my tongue like a tangy, spicy flavor so I just _had_ to share with her, "Sister, I don't think you can exactly talk, because _it takes one to know one!_ "

I had her trapped and we both knew it. She brushed off the insult like it was a piece of lint and retorted, "I won't deny it. It's fun, _and_ a nice workout. Don't doctors recommend you get a half hour or more of exercise a day?" She paused and mimicked a facade of thoughtfulness. "You know what? I may need to step up my game because perhaps every other day just isn't cutting it. I need to stay in shape."

"My goodness, what the hell am I going to do with you?" I scolded mockingly, pushing her into the rotating doors to the nearest motel. "Never give you a gym membership, that's for sure. Don't need you to abuse that with those hot, sweaty guys that are only there to innocently lift weights . . . until one of us shows up."

"Face it, we're just undeniable," she teased, then dropped the subject. Walking up to the main desk, my sister plastered a surprisingly real-looking smile onto her face. She was pretending to be interested, innocent, and friendly in one joyful package deal- something I could never pull off. Most people annoyed me too much to bother.

Amy was definitely more the sociable people person, where I preferred to work behind the scenes and sneak around and commit the actual crime (although Amy drugging people and the like was no small feat). I gravitated to the thrill of potential capture and danger looming over me, rather than having to deal with people. Perhaps it was my extremely limited patience that had something to do with it. Although, once a considerable amount of alcohol was in my system, I did become more and more outgoing. . . .

Stepping up behind her, I caught her order, "I would like a room with two separate beds."

The middle-aged woman with narrow spectacles eyed us carefully. "Are your parents around or are you two above eighteen?"

I rolled my eyes at the woman's skepticism. People tended to question us more than I would have liked about our age but usually my sister could talk her way out of situations pretty well. "Oh _here_ we go again, the interrogation routine. Clerk lady should go to police academy," I mumbled low enough for it to be unclear whether the lady heard me or not. If she did, she didn't comment.

Amy elbowed me sharply in the ribs and I pouted, but shut my mouth. Yeah, maybe _that's_ why she was the one to deal with people. . . .

A frown was tugging on my sister's mouth but she still remained mostly impassive and indifferent to the woman's questioning, unlike me. "Well, you see, our parents got caught in a jam and we got separated so we are camping out here until they can come get us so we can move forward with our plans. We are here to tour the city, learn some of the history, and overall get a feel for such a lively environment, but unfortunately, they aren't here to share it with us at the moment."

M sister lied with ease like I, and it paid off. The women turned from her cold persona and took on a caring smile. "Well, I am so sorry you two got separated from your parents. We will take good care of you two."

The woman proceeded to hurry over to her computer and type in the required stats for the room. She returned with a little envelope entitled with our room number.

"All right, here is your key. I assumed since you don't have a check out date we will bill you by the night and you will pay when your parents arrive. Is that okay?"

"That would be _brilliant_." Thank you so much for helping us, today has been rough and good people like you always seem to make the days brighter," Amy gushed, tucking her hair behind her ears in a purposefully angelic gesture. She grinned her most winning smile. I was about ready to puke all over the front table due to her incessant sweetness, but I managed to swallow any approaching bile.

The woman smiled brightly back, seemingly taken aback by my twin's utter politeness and courtesy. "Oh, bless your heart. You're ever so welcome, dear. No, head to the left and there is a stairway and your door is about halfway down the corridor. You two have a great stay here."

We both nodded and said our thanks as we walked away towards our temporary living quarters. I looked over to my sister who was trudging her way up the stairs a little ahead of me.

"Aren't you quite the sweet little heavenly bell," I taunted, following her up the nicely carpeted stairway. "Why, you activated my gag reflex!"

"It doesn't hurt to occasionally be nice," she tossed over her shoulder. "You'll find that it's easier to get your way if you are."

I deadpanned, allowing the never-ending sarcasm coursing through my veins instead of blood to rear its beautiful head, "I'll keep that in mind the next time we're mugged by wannabe bloody gangbangers. I'll bat my eyelashes and sing to all the pretty, chirping birds invariably fluttering around my golden halo and then the muggers, enchanted by bountiful elegance and grace, will leave us be with a tip of their hats. That'll happen, right?"

Amy took a moment to absorb all that then cast me a half-hearted glare. "Oh shut up. You're _impossible_."

"Why thank you." Giggling madly, I raced ahead of her and snatched the key right out of her hand.

Once I found the correct room number and wiggled the key around in the lock, I threw open the door and launched myself onto the closest bed. The room wasn't terrible. It had simple white walls adorned with pictures of the Mardi Gras and different scenes from around the French Quarter. The two queen beds were separated by a bed side table and to the side of the entry door was a standard bathroom.

After assessing our temporary home, Amy tentatively entered as if expecting the ceiling to cave in. She was being overdramatic, the room wasn't bad at all.

"So, sister of mine, what next?" I asked, folding my arms back behind my head and stretching out.

She pondered it over. "Well, we'll first call Leon and see if he got out on bail or not and set up a time and a place to meet up when he is in the all clear. Depending on what he says, after that we will probably head to the main center and get some new clothes and supplies to make up for what we left behind. That all right with you?"

"As long as we get food along the way, I'm down." It was about five o'clock this evening in New Orleans and we hadn't eaten since much since the train left the morning before, except some shoddy train before. That was a huge, _ginormous_ issue to me- it was a monstrous dilemma. Food was something I hated to go without because it reminded me of the days where it was much harder for us to obtain.

Amy agreed passionately, "Yeah, I'm starving. Can you call him? I'm gonna go wash my face and change really quick."

"Will do. You stink so you better hurry. We don't need you making the place reek with your after sex sweat still on you." To thank me, she flipped me off before walking into the bathroom to clean up.

"Hey, I'm not the only one who-"

"I was in a shower," I cut her off smugly, "it's self-cleaning." She was bested so she quieted down. I grabbed the phone off the bedside table and dialed in Leon's cell phone number.

He picked up on the first ring. "About fucking time, Jess. Why didn't you answer your goddamn phone earlier? Huh? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Amy usually took the harsh words from him but I was in no mood to respond amicably. "Dammit, Leon, contrary to popular belief, you don't have to be such a bloody wanker. Didn't your mother tell you that's not the way to treat girls? Apparently not, because you are _such_ a prick sometimes. Sod off."

I regretted it the moment the words tumbled from my mouth because Leon didn't take kindly to such disrespect. He spat furiously, "Fuck you, you worthless bitch. I've told you and your sister time and time again to never speak to me like that, but you're so fucking stupid that you just seem to forget my warnings, don't you? You're damn lucky I'm not there to give you a message you'd remember. Remember for a _long_ time. You're already a whore, but without me you'd be living on the streets like before, pickpocketing and starving and being a fucking waste of space. You would probably be selling your slutty body to men for a buck or two, which is hardly a step up from now. Do you really want to test me? Because without me, you'd be _nothing_."

His words were like individual knives, carving their own unique, excruciating holes into my heart. Before I knew what was happening, big fat tears rolled down my cheeks and I tried with everything in me to stifle my sobs so he couldn't hear. He took my feelings and stomped on them, crushing them beneath the soles of his shoes like a piece of forgotten gum. "I'm s-sorry, Leon. I-I didn't mean it. Please don't b-be mad at me."

I could almost feel him softening through the phone. "Hey, baby, you know I didn't mean the stuff I said. You and your sister just make me real angry sometimes. You know how much work I put into the two of you, with our business and all. I saved you both, you owe me your lives. Jess, you know how much I love you. You've been one of my best friends for so long. And you need me, I need you. You know how it is."

I dutifully wiped away my tears and forced a smile, even though he wasn't around to see it. "Yeah, Leon, I know. Um, I, uh . . . Anyway, did you get off on bail or something?" Maintaining a normal conversation after what he'd just said to me was _extremely_ difficult, but necessary.

"Wasn't even arrested," he proudly stated. "Long story, but I seem to be off the hook. You don't have to worry about me, baby. You and your sister left New York, right?"

"Yeah, we left the state," I informed him, still rattled.

"There's a good girl," he praised and I cringed. So easily could he flip a switch from pleasant to raging and back again.

"Where are you guys?" he questioned, scrambling on his end to presumably look for something to write down the address.

I took a small amount of pleasure in saying, "I don't know the exact address. We ended up in New Orleans at some cheap motel somewhere in the French Quarter. It's called _Scarlet House._ "

"Okay, cool, I will to you girls as fast as I possibly can. I have some important business to take care of, but after that, I'm gone. Don't worry, I'll keep you safe. Until then, do what you can do rack up some cash. Can I talk to your sister?" Amy was one to never talk back to him, so he always found it easier to talk to her. I would have gladly passed over the phone, but unfortunately, she wasn't available.

"She is in the shower, can it wait?" I wanted him to hang up already so I could check out the town. The music was so inviting.

"I guess." He sounded disappointed but I couldn't give two craps. _Hang up, hang up, hang up, dammit._ "Just tell her I love her and to stay strong. You can avoid the cops if you stay together and don't cause any trouble. You get me?"

"I know the drill. This is _only_ the the third time we have been caught," I groaned, getting slightly annoyed with his incessant ability of not being able to trust us alone. He wanted us to rely on him entirely.

"Don't sass me, child. Now, keep quiet 'till I get there. I _don't_ want to hear when I get there about trouble you've been causing. Remember to take your ADHD pills." There he was again, concerned about my well-being. Without waiting for my response, he hung up the phone. His abrupt endings could be rude at times but weren't anything if not normal. Leon did what he wanted even if it meant he had to be rough.

At least he reminded me to take my pills- I dug through my duffel bag and popped the necessary medication into my mouth. I was running out, I needed to stock up. If I didn't take them, then I bounced off the freaking _walls_.

Stopping my mind from going down that dark path, my sister walked out from the bathroom in a towel. Looking more relaxed than before, she asked, "Did you talk to Leon?"

"Yes, I did. He is going to make arrangements to get down as soon as he can and get us out of this shit-hole of a motel," I said, finally taking some pressure off my shoulders.

Amy began to fish through her duffel bag. "Hey, we should probably dress up a bit. I mean we _are_ in New Orleans, so we might as well look flashy."

Amy quickly removed her towel and put on a crop top with a strapless black heart neckline that cut off at the waist and clung snugly to her skin. After a break of skin revealing her midriff, she had a peach pink skirt that fell just long enough to cover her butt. It was tight as could be, but she looked good in it. She accessorized with her favorite necklace that had a black music note on top of piano keys, earrings, and some rings. She finished by putting on her black wedges and an ankle bracelet.

As she turned for me to see I noticed that her tattoo was showing. It rested off to one side of her back and just below her bra strap. In simple cursive lettering it wrote, "Not all those who wander are lost." J.R.R. Tolkien was a master. Her tattoos all meant something to her as mine meant something to me. We never just got something because it was cool or pretty. They were what we lived by.

Returning to my own thoughts, excitement raced through my veins and I rolled off the bed to dive into my own duffel bag. "I bet this place's nightlife is fantastic!" Leon, at some point in time, supplied us with a variety of party-style clothes as a reward for good behavior. "The best ones are probably twenty-one and up, though."

She flashed me a mischievous grin after applying some heavy makeup in the bathroom. Her eyes were vibrantly smokey, consisting of blacks and some pinks to lighten up her features. It definitely drew attention, especially with her purple-ish red lipstick. "Then we'll have to look twenty-one and up, won't we?"

It was go big or go home. I donned a complete makeover on myself to fully assimilate the "night look." I wore an electric blue dress with a slightly flared skirt falling to slightly above my mid-thigh. The vivid color matched the streaks in my hair. It had a reasonably low-reaching V-neck, spaghetti straps, and no back.

See, this is how it was. Like my sister had two tattoos, so did I. One day, when we were feeling particularly brave, we stalked with our heads held high into a tattoo parlor (with Leon, our guardian's permission) and each walked out with two tattoos. I had a quote resting right between my shoulder blades, spelling out the quote, "Fate loves the fearless" in fancy, but bold print with tendrils of ink that floated around on my neck and shoulders.

It was essentially my life motto. If there was nothing left of me, and I was merely a shell, my courage would be what I valued most. If I had that taken away from me, I would be nothing.

Our other tattoos were on insides of our right wrists, hers reading "One in the same" and mine spelling out "Two of a kind." It represented us well; we were two separate people, but we were permanently bonded to each other and were each other's other halves. So, we were two, but also _one_.

Anyway, jubilant at even the mere thought of partying and having a good time, I could hardly a suppress a squeal as skipped like a small child into the bathroom. After several layers of mascara, eyeliner, blue eyeshadow, and pale pink lipstick, I tied up my hair into a loose, but controlled bun. This put my very . . . decorated ears on display. I had a ton of earrings and even I knew it.

Here's a nifty little list of 'em. Two on each lobe, three cartilage piercings on my right ear with a chain running between, and one cartilage and an industrial piercing on my left side. Pain for cosmetics was no stranger to me.

After stepping into a pair of white stilettos (seriously, thank you, Leon's money), I was ready. Now, this may cause a question to arise. Why in the love of God did we have party clothes in our _emergency_ duffel bags? Answer: we were addicted to partying and it was nearly a necessity for us. Partying was our lifeblood. And it was hella fun.

"Let's hit the town!" I let off a little war cry and we were in such a hurry to have a good time, our crappy motel was left in a murky cloud of dust.

The streets of the French Quarter were even more spectacular at night. Lights shone ever so brightly, the music enchanted us, even the stars themselves seemed prettier than usual. A gaggle of women clad in club attire caught my attention and I hurried over to them. "Excuse me, but do you know of any good parties around here? I'm not just talking any regular party, I'm looking for the best of the best."

They seemed annoyed that I was bothering them, like I did it out of malice, but one who looked to have hardly more than a single brain cell eventually reply, "Uh, yeah. We're heading there right now! Duh."

Before I could fire off a quip of some sort, Amy warningly clamped her hand down on my shoulder and asked instead, "And where, pray tell, you might be going?"

The group of them exchanged looks of amusement, and I found it all rather patronizing, so I just cut to the chase with, "Look, are you going to tell us or not? If not, just tell us now so we don't waste anymore of each others' time."

That wiped the smirks off their faces. "You guys must not be from around here with those english accents because anyone who lives in the French Quarter knows," one of them scoffed. When I just waited expectantly, she finished, "Well then, fine. We're going to the Mikaelsons', of course!"


	3. Mistakes All Around

**A/N: M'kay, four reviews, four favorites, and thirteen follows. YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST! Go, go find all the cookies you have in your house and eat them all! Make sure to enjoy yourself with every single cookie. Go, go now. :D**

 **The response to this story has been amazing, so we'd like to offer you, along with all the cookies you have, a heartfelt** ** _thank you_** **. We really love writing this, and your encouragement adds even more to our enjoyment. This is a fairly long chapter, for you guys! For the first time but not the last, we have a Klaus perspective! This should be interesting . . .**

 **Oh, one more thing. If you're a Jackson fan . . . so sorry about that. He's fairly OOC in this chapter, though his fears are somewhat grounded. Er, you'll see. Let's just say, if you're a Jackson fan, then this may not please you.**

 **Warning: Underage drinking and a mild sexual encounter (it doesn't go too far, so you don't need to worry too much about that, and it's not graphic). We do not condone this, but it is necessary for our story's plot.**

 **Anyway, please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :)**

 **Disclaimer: We aren't Julie Plec, and we do not own the Originals. No Klaus for us. :( However, we do own Amy, Jessica, and Leon, as well as any other OCs we create later on.**

 **Chapter 3: Mistakes All Around**

 **Klaus's Perspective**

I watched in lukewarm satisfaction as the glass I threw at the wall shattered into a million pieces. Nowhere near the indescribable joy I would feel if that glass had been Jackson Kenner.

My typically silent inner monologue was expressed outwardly in a bottomless pit of rage. "How _dare_ that vile excuse of a man be given such a title that belongs to me and only me? I raised _my_ child, I protected _my_ child, and that pathetic dog believes he can usurp my position as her father?" I laughed aloud without humor. "He's got another thing coming to him."

My fangs were creeping out and my eyes were showing the wolf inside. _How dare Jackson implant the idea of him being Hope's father into her sweet and innocent little mind? And Little Wolf_ let _him._

Hearing the door creak open, without looking I hurled a book in the sound's direction. The swift movements and the slight breeze came with such speed, I knew who had intruded and acknowledged the presence with, "Leave me be, brother."

As what was so very typical, Elijah did not leave me alone. He looked me dead in the eye, a feat few men had ever been able to accomplish without even an ounce of fear.

In normal Elijah fashion, he adjusted his tie as he drawled, "Brother, we have a party to host, and may I remind you that this is a party thrown by you? I believe the host must at least make an appearance, no matter the current problem at hand." Turning, he walked leisurely back to the door, but stopped before taking his exit. Looking back toward me, intrigue sharpened his features and he took a step closer to me. "Considering the wreckage that you have made of this room, what, pray tell, is it that has you in such a state?"

I poured myself another glass of scotch with an intact glass and downed it in one gulp. "That repugnant creature that Hayley so deemed as a husband has done something that is worthy of worse than death."

Elijah had the sheer audacity to smirk, looking _amused_ , of all things. "Is that so?"

"If it so amuses you, Elijah, then you may as well return to the party because I am in _no_ mood for this." At the very least, my brother dropped his smile.

"I'm listening, Niklaus. What is it that has you so angry with him?"

I didn't even want to repeat it, I was so furious, but I finally summoned the eloquence to reply, "My daughter has taken to calling him Dad. _Him_. The one she shares not a _single_ drop of blood with. I'm her father, Elijah, _me!_ " I violently pointed at my own chest and he dared not argue with me.

"Well, this _is_ a predicament," he stated the obvious as he poured himself his own drink. "One that will need to be rectified."

"A predicament? _A predicament?_ That's the understatement of the year! Give me one damn reason to not find the bastard and snap his neck!"

Obnoxiously, Elijah remained cool and collected. "Because it would hurt Hayley, the mother of your child. And however much you don't want to hear this, it would hurt your daughter."

 _Damn his logic._ "Hope doesn't need him! She needs me, her _real_ father!"

"However true that may be, Hayley and Hope may not see it that way." His obsession with Little Wolf had gone on since he had first laid eyes on her, but this was too far.

I sneered at him bitterly. "My daughter is three years old. She won't remember Jackson if I end him now. She will only remember _me_."

"But what of Hayley, brother? You're willing to destroy her life over a petty jealousy?"

I glowered at him, glowered at everything. "Your judgmental side is rearing its ugly head. Go on to the party, enjoy yourself. I'll figure out this unfortunate situation _myself_." I downed yet another glass of scotch.

As he moved to exit the room, he sent me one last stern, no-nonsense look and I fought the demanding urge to roll my eyes. "Niklaus, do not do anything that we'll all regret."

"Ah, but I'll hardly regret it. And you should be on _my_ side. Haven't you been wanting the mother of my child to yourself for several years now?" He didn't respond and looking thoroughly disappointed with me, as usual, he left the room and I smiled to myself as a perfectly diabolical plan formed in my mind.

I had been toying with it all day, starting with capturing one of Jackson's werewolf lackeys and positioning a few vampires loyal to me around his home. He would be the key part of my plan.

The werewolf was sitting in my room, fuming. "Ah, how nice that you're healed now!" I didn't treat him particularly nicely. "It appears that I need a favor of you."

"What is it?" the man growled through ground teeth. "It isn't like I can do any damn thing about it, you have my family surrounded. You threatened my wife into inviting those sons of bitches in. Don't hurt them, _please_. They didn't do anything to you. _Please_."

"Well, that depends on you," I said with a twisted grin. "And you're right, there isn't anything you can do to fight me, unfortunately, since your family will suffer as a result. If you do as I say, then your family will be spared from harm and I shall not bother them again." I informed him of my plan.

The werewolf's eyes widened considerably and he shook his head in desperation. "Please, no, don't make me do that."

He was wasting my time. I hissed, "If you don't comply, then your family's pain will be your fault." The wolf quieted down, grudgingly submissive to my commands. "You're going to find Jackson at this party and tell him that last night, when he was out taking _my daughter_ to the park, you saw Hayley in bed with Elijah through one of the windows of the compound. Since Jackson did in fact put you on guard to _protect_ the little wolf. Go now." With a final hateful glare, he stormed off to follow through with my task.

I hadn't used this tactic in a short while, but it was necessary. A tactic that needed to be acted out perfectly. It would all fall apart if Jackson were in a stable marriage and he was secure about his place in it, and completely trusted Hayley.

But he wasn't and he didn't, and after some careful observation I had come to realize this. Since Hayley and I recently managed to work out a fairly seamless custody agreement, she had been forced to spend more time with our family, including Elijah. Even the blind could see that the feelings they had for each other had never fully disappeared, and Jackson noticed this as well. So, he grew more and more suspicious and insecure and he fought with Hayley over this. She was losing her patience with him. So, this tiny little act of manipulation would be the final nail in the coffin- no pun intended.

Over the years, I discovered a lot about the psychology of humans. If Jackson were secure in his position as Hayley's husband, then the wolf's reveal would only prompt him to assume it was merely manipulation, probably coming from the likes of me, and nothing more. If he at least held a bond of trust with her, then he would confront her.

But over the weeks, it was clear that he was slowly but surely losing trust in her, even when she gave him mostly no reason to. Mostly. Her feelings for Elijah were strengthening once more, but she hadn't acted on them.

And it wasn't like the wolf was stupid enough to hunt down Elijah. Even that dimwit knew it was futile to attack an Original.

The final straw was the day before when the mongrel took my daughter to the park. As usual, whenever he was alone with her, I watched them from the shadows like a hawk. And my precious little girl called him "Daddy." I was enraged to the point where I nearly leaped from the trees tore him to pieces, but I couldn't in front of my daughter. So, I plotted instead.

If Hope began to call him her father, then that meant she was spending far too much time with him and far too little time with me. I blamed Hayley for that as well as Jackson, so splitting up their marriage and ensuring Jackson's distance from my daughter seemed like a sufficient solution.

I smirked to myself and strutted from the room. Now all I had to do was watch their marriage implode.

 **Jessica's Perspective**

I owed everything to those random, catty strangers who led me here. THIS PARTY WAS THE BOMB. It made the one we hosted last night look like our crappy motel next to a five-star, deluxe hotel. Yet the difference was even broader. Yeah, that's how freakin' awesome this party was. Whoever these Mikaelsons were, they were my new favorite people on the entire planet besides my sister. I would've paid taxes to those people and created altars and offerings in their glorious honor.

Amy separated from me to dance with a handsome young man, but I didn't mind being ditched. It granted me more freedom to explore. My first destination was the bar because it looked extremely high-class, but a scene off from the main crowd distracted me.

A young blond man looked like he was telling a _hot_ black-haired man that his mother just died, or the equivalent of it. His features were screwed up in anguish and the blond had his hand comfortingly lying on his drooping shoulder. Eventually the black-haired shrugged him off, and the other sadly left him be. The brunette made a beeline for the bar and I hesitantly followed, maneuvering my way through the wildly dancing bodies.

By the time I arrived, he had downed two shots and was onto his third. "Whoa, there," I said gently, capturing his attention. I sat on the stool next to him and ordered a couple vodka shots of my own. Amy was right, our makeup and outfits made us appear so much older. "Keep drinking like that and you'll end up in the hospital having your stomach pumped."

The man spared me a half-smile as he gulped down the third. "I'm resilient."

I laughed a little and nudged his shot glasses around. "I can see that." The bartender served me my drinks and I swallowed them one after another. He let off a low whistle.

"You sure can handle your drinks." I winked at him playfully and ordered another. The buzz was already beginning to kick in, but I knew I wouldn't feel the full force of it for a short while. I had a high alcohol metabolism.

His mood rapidly declined once more and I felt an urge to cheer him up. For some reason, I didn't want to see him so miserable. He seemed like a nice man, even though I knew nothing about him. "Hey, chin up. Whatever's got you down can't be the end of the world. I bet everything'll look better in the morning. Well, maybe not with that hangover you're sure to receive, but give it an extra few hours."

He chuckled darkly and swiveled his stool to face me. "Aren't you a wise one? Unfortunately, I don't think your advice is going to help me with this one."

I was beginning to feel a little awkward; I was never good at talking to people, let alone comforting them. "It might seem suckish now, but whatever it is, I bet you can get past it. You've gotten this far in life, after all."

Actually, against all odds, he perked up a tiny bit, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. "I suppose that's true." The bartender slid both our shots down the table. He raised his glass for a toast. "To getting through the suckish parts of life."

I lifted mine as well and finished off the toast with, "To being a stronger person than you were before." We clinked them together and drank them together. I was already feeling giddy and silly, and he was loosening up as well.

"M'name's Jackson," he said conversationally and he drunkenly stuck out his hand for me to shake. I slipped my hand into his calloused grip and marveled at his strength. "And you?"

"Jessica."

"You're above age, right?" He sounded hopeful.

The truth caught in my throat. If I told him my real age, he wouldn't give me the time of day and I might've lost the most decent guy I had ever talked to. "Yup, nineteen. We're all good."

"Well, Jessica," he poked me on the nose and I giggled. "When did you learn so much about life?"

I wasn't quite sure how seriously he meant the question, but I answered it with all sincerity. "I haven't had an easy childhood. It was very difficult, actually. I suppose I could've given up a long time ago and let life puke all over me until I drowned in it, but, and this is gonna sound cheesy, I crafted an umbrella and waded it through it. I don't think I turned out real good, but I'm just happy I came out at all. I'm stronger, I think. So, that's how I know that if you set your mind to it, you can get through anything." _Thank God those shots didn't quite kick in yet,_ I thought humorously. That would have came out with far less eloquence.

I smiled shyly as he stared at me with some semblance of awe. I'd never met a man like this before. Most just wanted to bed me and I went along with it a little too often, but this man, it was like he actually wanted to take the time to talk to me. To listen to me. To hear what I had to say. Nobody, _nobody_ before was willing to do that.

When he still didn't comment, with a sheepish shrug of my shoulders, I apologized with, "Sorry if that came on too heavy. You didn't come here to hear my life story. You already have your own problems, you don't need to hear mine."

Jackson was shutting me down before the words even finished leaving my mouth. He enveloped my hands in his and heat rushed to my face, because he seemed so . . . genuine. A real man. "Jessica, don't apologize for that. It actually really helps me."

My heart soared like a bald eagle. Like an idiot, my mouth formed a grin that spread from ear to ear. It was ridiculous how thrilled I was that I was making him happy. He just seemed like such a good guy that it felt like a huge honor that someone as pathetic and lowly as me could make someone like _him_ feel some form of happiness.

"I'm glad it does, you don't deserve at _all_ whatever pain you're feeling." If I could go back in time and stop myself from saying that, I would in a heartbeat. I was mentally kicking myself all the way to China. "I didn't, um. I don't pretend to know what kind of person you are or pretend to have any knowledge of how you're feeling, but you just seem like such a good person that you don't deserve any kind of pain, in any form . . . oh God, someone stop me, I think those shots are finally kicking in. I would gladly welcome a nice hole to open up and eat me alive. That'd be appreciated."

He tilted his head back and laughed a full, body-encompassing laugh and I immediately felt better about my slip of tongue. Still slightly embarrassed, I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear as if it were a shield of protection from his potential mockery.

While he was chortling away, I ordered us each another shot and the bartender delivered quickly. I downed my fourth one and now, boy was I feeling tipsy.

He drank up his shot and finally managed to stop laughing at me enough to say seriously, "I think you're really sweet and funny and that was kind of you to say." He slipped off his barstool and I resigned myself for the fact that he had to leave. "Jessica, would you like to dance?"

If my heart soared before, then it just flew straight out of my mouth and into the fluffiest clouds above. "Why yes, Jackson, I _would_. Such a gentleman."

He was grinning broadly as he led me to the dance floor, like he had forgotten whatever was bothering him before. I knew better, though. It was all a facade to mask his pain, but I could cheer him up for at least for now, I wouldn't protest.

I had the time of my life as I danced with him. He had moves tucked up his sleeve like a stack of aces, but I was no amateur- except at classical ball-room dancing, that I was crap at.

Sure, it was highly possible that I was making a complete and utter fool of myself because my drunkenness was finally making itself known, but that didn't matter to me because I was having a hell of a lot of fun, and so was he.

Before I could realize what was happening, his lips were pressed against mine. I recovered from the shock quickly and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing back with more intensity.

Jackson pulled away just long enough to say, "Want to take this dance upstairs?" I vigorously nodded yes, so he led the way to the staircase and I eagerly followed him up.

Never before had I been with such a good, kind man, and through my drunken haze, I wondered if I should tell him I was fifteen. I pushed that thought away. No, he _liked_ me and that little detail would ruin it all. He was the only guy to like me as a person, not just for my appearance or reputation. I'd tell him afterwards, and hopefully, _hopefully_ he wouldn't mind. Maybe he could see past it for the connection we already shared. I could see ourselves in an actual relationship and that thought made me grin like the Cheshire cat.

He picked the first room he could find and picked me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and dove in for a deep, passionate kiss as he kicked the door shut.

 **Klaus's Perspective**

My masterful plan was working with flying colors. Jackson was dancing with a young damsel with blue-streaked blonde hair, rather intimately. Searching through the crowd, I performed the second part of my plan and found my eldest sibling, Freya. The two of us had admittedly been on good terms as of late, and I even trusted her with Hope. She was good with the child.

I claimed her attention with, "Sister, I need you." Her golden blonde hair was done up in elegant waves, and they bounced up and down as she turned to view me curiously. "It's an emergency, I'm afraid."

Freya tilted her head to the side worriedly. "What's the matter, Nik? How urgent is this?"

"It involves my daughter."

Her posture noticeably straightened, like she was ready to do whatever it took to protect young Hope. I appreciated that, though I'd never voice it. "Is something wrong with Hope?"

"No," I appeased, placing a hand on her emerald green fabric-clad shoulder. "But unfortunately, Hayley is going to want to come to the party very soon under less than desirable circumstances, so I would like for you to watch my child."

A no-nonsense look contorted her pleasant features and I endeavored to appear as "innocent" as possible. But, alas, Freya was the eldest Mikaelson sibling and she knew when one of us was deceiving her. "Klaus, what did you do?"

"It will come to light soon enough," I stalled. "But for now, I need you to watch Hope for me. Would you be willing to do that?"

Luckily for me, though she wasn't exactly thrilled about my lies of omission, she discreetly exited the party and headed for Hayley and Jackson's apartment.

I darted over to the second floor and scanned for Jackson and his new playmate. He was leading the young woman up the stairs, and I tutted under my breath. Hayley would want to hear of this.

As I removed my cell phone from my coat pocket, an irate Elijah appeared on the other side of me. "Brother, what did you _do?_ Why is Jackson with another woman?" He took a closer look at them and deduced, "She's hardly more than a girl, even if she's technically a woman, but I don't think she is."

I followed his line of sight and found myself agreeing with him. "Yes, if she wasn't wearing all that makeup, I'm sure it would be clear that she's underage. Nothing we can do about that, now can we?" I shrugged and dialed in Hayley's number as Jackson disappeared into a room with the girl.

Elijah was fuming, shaking with incandescent rage. But, like usual, he restrained it remarkably well. "Niklaus, if you did whatever you did to ruin Hayley's marriage, to _hurt_ her . . ."

I ignored him as Hayley answered her phone with, "Hello? Klaus, Hope's _fine_. Just enjoy the party you decided to throw for no particular reason." _There was a reason,_ I thought, amused. _It was to destroy your marriage._

"Little Wolf, I'm afraid there's something I need to tell you." I couldn't keep the smirk off my face and Elijah looked about ready to throttle me.

"Brother, don't you _dare_." I held up a finger, signaling that I couldn't talk at the moment and he clenched his jaw muscles as tightly as he could.

Hayley's tone rose with urgency and she demanded, "What, what is it? What's wrong? Don't play your little games, Klaus, just tell me."

"Freya is heading over to watch our daughter. You _might_ want to come on over." I smiled impishly as I informed her, "Jackson's being a naughty boy."

 **Jessica's Perspective**

Jackson showered my neck with kisses as I hurriedly ripped his jacket from his shoulders and frantically unbuttoned his shirt. He leaned away for a moment and I begged, "Jackson, don't stop _now!_ "

"Believe me, I won't," he said huskily and it occurred to me what he wanted to do, so I lifted up my arms obediently. He expertly slid my dress off above my head and then admired my body, which was now clad only with lacy undergarments.

"Yes, I win!" I cried out of success and triumph as I finished undoing his shirt. He shrugged it off, lifted me up yet again, and none too gently tossed me onto the bed.

I positioned myself seductively as he unbuckled his pants with haste, lowering himself on top of me. Straining my neck upwards, I kissed along his collarbone and he hauled me up against him, laying his lips sensually just under my jaw over and over again. Our hands were all over each other.

It was my time to shine. He might've been a good nine, ten inches taller than me and a whole lot more muscular, but I rolled him into his back with _ease_. Not that he was doing any resisting, though. I straddled his waist and captured his lips into mine once more. Our lips danced together with fluency and enthusiasm.

Just as we were planning on moving beyond first and (sort of) second base, the door was flung open and slammed into the opposite wall. I nearly gave myself whiplash as I turned to see who rudely interrupted us- a tall, beautiful, brunette woman who just radiated fury like a fiery hot furnace. _Well, shit._

"Get the _hell_ off my husband!"


	4. The Other Woman

**A/N: Guyzzzzz, did you see the last Originals episode? The FEELS! Okay, we didn't even** ** _like_** **Finn, but . . . that was heart-breaking. And Lucien, you traitor! And to think we liked** ** _him._**

 **Anyway, yeah, if you haven't seen the latest episode, check that baby out. You guys are awesome, and thanks so much for reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing this story! It means soooo much to us! :D Sorry for taking so long to update! We hope this chapter sort of makes up for it. Since we ended on a cliffy (sorry about that . . . not really), this is the dreaded confrontation. The girls meet most of the Mikaelsons here, yay! Except . . . not on very good terms.**

 **Yeah, so our lovely reviewer Savily pointed out that Jackson doesn't really have a fan base, which is good, because we basically trashed him here. Yeah, sorrynotsorry.**

 **The next chapter will be in Klaus's perspective again, then back to the girls, and Kol's introduced next chapter! Now, Finn's in this story too because we wanted a full family unit, but don't worry he won't be taking up** ** _too_** **much space. Because . . . Kol! Kol's amazeballs! That glorious psychopathic maniac . . . Two chapters from now, let's see what happens when** ** _he_** **meets the twins! Trouble, trouble, and lots of fun! :D**

 **Warning: Some bad language sprinkled around.**

 **Anyway, please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :)**

 **Disclaimer: We aren't Julie Plec, and we do not own the Originals. No Klaus for us. :( However, we do own Amy, Jessica, and Leon, as well as any other OCs we create later on.**

 **Chapter 4: The Other Woman**

 **Amy's Perspective**

This was one killer party. The amount of cute boys was endless and I danced with about half of them, just rotating from one to another after every dance. I wasn't looking for anything serious, but then again, I never was.

The current one I was dancing with was getting a little too grabby, so watching my sister gravitate toward the stairs leading to the second floor with a man gave the perfect excuse to remove myself from our dance/grinding session.

Heading over to the bar, I followed the two lovebirds with my steadfast gaze as they started up an intense make-out session. The guy was extremely good-looking, and considerably older than her, but the way he looked at her, my guess would be he didn't know that little fact. The way he was looking at her made me a tad more than just nervous. It wasn't the typical lust a man looked at his lover with, it was woven in with a raw, indescribable pain- like his life had just fallen apart and he was using Jessie to forget it all for a night . . . and that never went well. Especially now that they were heading for the stairs.

After they disappeared onto the second floor, I decided to turn down the next drink offered to me by the bartender; I needed to stay sharp in case my twin ever needed me. Something off set me about her being with someone that old. We had both admittedly been with guys in their twenties, but he gave off this aura of maturity that none of our lovers had ever possessed.

Sipping on my chaser, I slowly moved through the crowds towards the stairwell filled with people that lead up to the closed door. Before I had made it even close to my location, Mister Grabby Hands latched onto my arse to turn me around toward him.

"Hey, baby, I was wondering where you ran off to," he garbled, his words distorted by alcohol to the point of unintelligibility. He was backing me up until I hit a stone pillar ( _tacky, much?)_ and pain shot up my spine, the man pressing so close against me I could smell the rancid odor wafting from his breath.

"Not in the mood, buddy," I warned, futilely attempting to laugh off his dominant position and make a move to dodge around him. Before I could force my exit, though, he pushed me even harder against the wall, holding me in an iron clutch so I couldn't move. His grip was inhumanly strong and I couldn't even attempt to break free. _Just what I needed tonight_ , I thought furiously.

"Hey, lemme go now!" I growled, but that handsy bastard let my rebuff roll off him like droplets of water off a duck's back. So, I resorted to plan B: spitting in his face. In hindsight, not my best move, but it sure was satisfactory at the time.

He bared his teeth in a gesture somewhere between a sadistic grin and a rabid snarl. "You like it rough, I will give you rough." He leaned in to kiss my neck, but ended up biting me hard enough to puncture my skin. _Ow, dammit!_

I tried so hard to squirm away, but it was useless. I was in too much shock to scream, no one had ever freaking bit me- well, like _that!_ And that son of a bitch was _not_ letting go! What a creep! If I received some disease like Hepatitis, I would be looking into a _serious_ bloody lawsuit.

Next thing I knew, his weight was abruptly removed off me and from my now unsupported position on the wall, I dropped hard onto my arse. _Double ow._ In a daze, I looked up to see a (very!) good-looking African American male, wrenching the man up by his neck and throwing him to the side like he was nothing more than a flimsy rag doll. "And stay down."

I immediately gained a well-earned respect for the young African American man. The man looked down at me and kindly held out his hand for me to take. "Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

Taking his hand to stand upright, I was able to clear my head enough to respond, "Yes, um, thank you. That was very nice of you . . . to kick his arse like that."

His lips spread apart in a winning, swoon-worthy smile and I was quite nearly blinded by the gleaming whiteness of his teeth. _Best. Smile. EVER._ "You're bleeding. Here, follow me, I will patch you up," he offered. His features were earnest enough, but after my little situation I was reminded yet again to never trust a pretty face.

Pressing my hand against my neck to stop the bleeding, I countered that with, "So, you want me to go with a stranger to an unknown location, after I was just assaulted by a different stranger who bloody bit me and who wanted to take me to God knows where. Excuse me for my lack of courtesy, but I don't _think_ so."

At the very least, he didn't appear _surprised_ , but he still maintained his pleasant charm. "Hello, my name is Marcel, what's yours?"

I smirked at him, shaking my head in mock regret. He found the obvious loophole in "we're strangers": ensuring that we _technically_ weren't. _Cheeky bastard._ That was _soooo_ a Jessie move. Hesitating only a brief moment (yeah, he won me over), I told him, "Amy. My name is Amy." Why not tell him? He _did_ save me, I had to give him credit for that.

He bowed playfully in introduction and I rolled my eyes, but good-naturedly. I liked this man, he appeared to have a decent moral compass and his charisma was off the charts. "Well, Amy, now we aren't strangers. So, come along and I will get you a bandage."

My neck was gushing blood. That sounded like a damn good idea. "Well, how can I argue with that?"

We started to head over to the stairs until he stopped me and asked, curiosity written all over his face in big bold letters, "How old are you anyway? Fifteen? Sixteen?" His easygoing, relaxed countenance transformed into something much sterner and a foreign bout of insecurity plagued me. "You've been drinking, I can tell. You shouldn't be at a party like this. You might think all that makeup and clothes like that will make you look older, and while most might fall for it, I can see right through you."

"You're right, I'm fifteen," I replied, shifting away from him sheepishly. He didn't look surprised, but he didn't appear all too thrilled about it either.

"So, what's your story?" he asked conversationally as we neared the stairs. "With that accent I doubt you have resided in this lovely city for your entire life."

"I haven't, for a matter of fact. I grew up in London, then moved to the states when I was about eleven. We had gotten bored of our town and decided to explore. My sister and I have been wandering ever since," I rambled, telling the man my life story was definitely the tequila shots talking, but it was too late now.

"What about your parents?" he queried, like most did in hearing little snippets of our past.

"That isn't important," I said quietly, avoiding eye contact. It was a tough subject and a story not even I knew.

Before he could perhaps question me more, a stunning, willowy woman with lush dark hair stormed past us . . . heading straight for the room Jessie and her date had snuck into. Incandescent rage was pulsing off her like a ton of bricks being thrown right at my head.

"Hayley?" Marcel called after her, but she didn't even take the time to acknowledge his existence. "Hayley, what's wrong?"

A drop-dead gorgeous blonde woman hurried up to join us, gasping, "Someone's set off Hayley. Said someone's going to be torn apart right about now."

It dawned on me. That person could very well be my sister. My protective instincts bubbled up right to the surface and I took the stairs up two at a time. " _Jessie!_ "

Marcel and Blondie were hot on my tail, but I couldn't care less. There was only one focus on my mind: saving my twin sister. Running in my tall black wedges was a difficult and daunting feat, but I ignored my pain and clumsiness for the sake of Jessie.

"Get the _hell_ off my husband!" sounded from her room and I quickened my pace even further. I was the first one to skid into the room as the woman named Hayley violently threw Jessie off of the black-haired man. My twin crashed into the nearest wall and crumpled to the ground.

Red bled across my vision and I stepped forward to punch the brunette right in the nose, so she wouldn't target my sister again. "Leave my sister alone!" My knuckles throbbed, but dammit, that felt _good_.

"You're going down, bitch!" challenged Hayley, taking the blow in stride. Her eyes vicious, deadly daggers, she turned onto me and before I knew it, I was on the ground nursing a busted lip and receiving a sharp kick to the ribcage. _Really, literally kicking me when I'm down? Not very classy._

The black-haired man was wisely staying out of it- his wife was a force to be reckoned with. Blondie woman twisted Hayley's arms behind her back after the third kick she landed in and hissed, "Calm yourself!" My side was throbbing and hurt like hell. She likely bruised a rib; she would so be paying for my medical bills.

Marcel, acting as the gentleman, handed a stunned Jessie her dress. "You should put this on." She obeyed his suggestion in a blind rush, and he made sure to politely avert his eyes, even though she still was adorning undergarments.

To _really_ make this a party, two men joined us at the doorway. Like we needed more company. One was a very handsome (seriously, these people could've been models), impeccably dressed, elegant black-haired man. By his side was also a heart-throbber with dirty blond hair, a face to die for, and a smirk playing at his lips. Was he enjoying this? If so, then he was definitely the _only_ one.

"What appears to be going on?" the blond simpered and I scoffed. Wasn't it obvious? The whole scene basically spoke for itself- he just wanted to make this worse. "In _our_ room in _our_ house at _our_ party. A bit tactless, if you ask me." _So they're the hosts . . . the Mikaelsons._

Hayley viciously signaled over to my sister and spat, "You're the one who tipped me off, Klaus, so you can just stop with your damn games. That _whore_ over there was on top of my husband, and if I had come only five minutes later they would've been _screwing_." The brunette struggled against Blondie's unrelenting grip. "Let me go, Rebekah, I'm about to give that slut what's coming for her!"

 _Don't you call my sister a_ whore, I thought, but bit my lip before I could actually say it. All eyes were glued onto Jessie. I jumped to my feet and wrapped my arm around my trembling twin's shoulders, fully intending to shield her from any more insults or attacks, but Jessie wasn't having any of that. She shoved my arm away and yelled at the black-haired man, "Oh my God, you're _married?!_ What the hell is _wrong_ with you?! How could you let this happen when you have a bloody _wife?_ "

Relief almost immediately blossomed up inside of me. Jessie hadn't known. She hadn't willingly gone off to sleep with a married man. Then the righteous anger came; that bastard led her on! I would have WORDS with him. Speaking of which, said bastard was sporting an excellent "deer-in-the-headlights" expression as of now.

Hayley _did_ manage to wiggle away from Blondie's- _Rebekah's_ hold, only to slap the black-haired man hard across the face. "How could you _do_ this to me? You faithless, cheating asshole!" I wasn't extraordinarily happy with her for slut-shaming my sister, and beating me up, but I was internally rooting for her just for that moment. Damn, was _that_ a slap! She really packed it. His head practically flew off his neck. Now, would _that_ be a scene to behold.

Jessie and I, Marcel, Rebekah, Klaus, and the other gorgeous black-haired man were made into mere spectators now as Mr. Manwhore retorted, "You're the one who cheated with Elijah first! Ethan told me how she saw you, so don't even bother to deny it! He's in our pack, our family, he wouldn't dare lie to me."

The other pretty black-haired man, presumably Elijah, defended himself indignantly with, "We did no such thing! Neither of us hold such _little_ value in your marriage as you seem to do. Perhaps you should inspect your own actions, when it was you who so carelessly tossed your marriage to the side like a piece of trash." _Oooooh, burn._

"This Elijah's a savage," Jessie whispered into my ear and I stifled a snort. Only my sister could maintain even the slightest ounce of humor after this. But that was Jessie, cracking a joke to hide the pain. A few heads snapped toward us, like they overheard- which was impossible, considering how quietly she had uttered it.

"Elijah wouldn't do something so vile, unlike you, he has a moral code," Rebekah stated proudly and vindictively at the same time. The cheater flashed her an irritated glare for throwing in her two cents. She sounded protective of Elijah- maybe they were siblings? They didn't look all that alike, but age-wise, she could've been his younger sister.

"Elijah's right!" Hayley agreed (she didn't heed much attention to Rebekah's comment), shoving Mr. Manwhore back onto the bed when he tried to stand up. "I wouldn't _cheat_ on you! I'm _better_ than that! I don't know what Ethan thinks he saw, but he had to be hallucinating or-"

"Somebody threatened him," Mr. Manwhore finished with a gruff growl, his eyes shifting over to Klaus. Klaus merely smiled in such an cherubic and innocent yet diabolical way that I was instantly certain he was guilty of whatever Mr. Manwhore was accusing him of.

"That doesn't matter right now, Jackson!" Hayley raged and I was impatiently waiting for her to hit him again. _Come on, any time now! We're waiting on you, sister._ It was a much needed entertainment, after how he used my sister. "What matters is _you_ cheated and _you_ just stomped all over our marriage! This is on you, and your _whore_." Jessie flinched beside me. _Okay, not rooting for you anymore, you insufferable bitch_.

Hayley then stalked over to the two of us threateningly and Marcel intervened, "Leave them alone, they're kids." Apparently he deduced we were twins- it was fairly obvious, even though we were fraternal because we still looked alike. I'd like to think the reason Hayley backed off was not only Marcel's warning, but also my "Mess-with-us-and-I'll smack-you-to-next-Tuesday" look. Let's hope so.

Jackson leaped off the bed like it was searing his arse off and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "What do you mean they're _kids?_ " He stared at Jessie accusingly. "Jessica, how old are you?" Well, this got awkward real fast.

 _Uh oh._ This could very well be inching into illegal territory, and it was for everyone to know. _Lovely_. Jessie stormed past the two of us to position herself stupidly (but bravely!) in front of him. "You're not the only one with secrets, jackass! I'm fifteen!" So, maybe _that_ wasn't the best idea. With a room full of adults, especially sharply dressed ones (I dunno, it just made them more proper somehow, or at least Elijah), this dirty laundry did not need to be aired.

The silence that followed was charged up with tension as Jackson's face contorted up with disgust. Yup, she definitely hadn't told him. Well, his tiny, itty bitty redeeming quality was that he hadn't willingly jumped the sheets with a fifteen-year-old girl. But other than that, he was totally going to take a road trip to hell. "Y-you're _fifteen?_ I laid my hands on a . . . a kid?"

"You shouldn't have been laying your hands on _anyone_ but your damn wife!" Jessie shot back and that shut him up real fast. _That's my girl, you show him!_

I could see Hayley mentally putting the pieces together. Not only was Jessie only fifteen, but she obviously was unaware of his existing vows to another woman. She was innocent, besides her own (rather large) lie and Hayley was beginning to realize this. _Maybe she'll stop bitching at_ us _now and target the real villain: her sleazy husband._

"You know, Jackson, the age of consent in Louisiana is seventeen," Klaus pointed out cheerfully and I jumped in surprise, almost forgetting he was present in the room. "Let's hope dear Jessica here won't charge you with, ah, what is it called? Oh yes, unlawful sex with a minor? Statutory rape, perhaps? Take your pick." Something told me he was not the biggest fan of our dear Mr. Manwhore.

"I didn't have sex with that douchenozzle!" Jessie was quick to deny. She must have been _so_ thankful for that tiny saving grace. I caught Elijah mouth 'douchenozzle' inquisitively, as if he'd never heard the term before in his life and it quite honestly befuddled him. Jessie filtered out very interesting, unusual insults; I'd long since developed an immunity to them. Hearing them was like second nature.

"It's true!" Jackson insisted vehemently to both Klaus and his wife, as if that would help matters in the slightest. "I didn't sleep with her, I didn't!" Well, he was _going_ to, and that's all that mattered.

Hayley looked repulsed to even be breathing the same air as him. _Join the club, sistah._ "You were going to, and don't even try to deny that. You kissed her, you undressed her . . . ! And just because you thought I was with Elijah doesn't make it _okay!_ Because I wasn't! I would _never_ do that to you! Our marriage means the world to me and I thought you felt the same."

She was on the verge of tears, but she stoically held herself together. Rebekah moved forward to comfortingly side-hug her and Hayley squeezed her back, seemingly appreciating the support.

"It _do_ feel the same! I screwed up, Hayley, I screwed up real bad. I just . . ." Like a cornered animal, he lashed out on the easiest target: my unfortunately underage twin. "Jessica, you told me you were nineteen! How could you lie about something like that? It makes me _sick_ to even think about being with a damn kid."

Jessie's shoulders lowered in defeat, so on her behalf, I lost my already volatile temper. "Hey, you son of a bitch, don't talk to my sister like that! I think we all know that you're the one who fucked up big time, buddy." _Oh yeah, take that, back up, one point for moi._

The hole he had been speed-digging all night became his new home, because he evidently just decided to dig his own grave. Y'know why? 'Cause he ignored me. Like I hadn't said anything at all. His dickiness just increased tenfold in my books. NOBODY IGNORED ME, DAMMIT.

He ignored me, and he kept on talkin'. "Jessica, do you want to be the kind of girl that gets unsuspecting guys in trouble because you lied about your age?" His disgust in himself and anger with her spurred him on even further. "You're just a stupid kid! If I knew you were fifteen, I wouldn't have even looked _twice_ at you! Do you get that? This is all ridiculous! But no, you just decided to be selfish. Selfish and _stupid_."

If there was a line, then he just tap-danced a mile past it. For the second time that night, pure silence stretched after his words. Shocked beyond words, I glanced over at Jessie and my heart split into two to see her green eyes gleaming with a thick sheen of tears. I expected her to burst into tears and run off, but I underestimated her. Jessica Kaslova didn't take shit from anyone.

"Shut the hell up." Jackson's eyebrows mingled with his greasy hairline, but she didn't even give him a chance to speak. "No, you got your chance to spout bullshit, _I'm_ talking now." She moved forward lithely, like a graceful but dangerous wildcat ready to pounce. "First off, real nice ignoring my sister like that. _Nobody_ puts Amy Kaslova in a corner."

That brought a chuckle out of Klaus (again, the only one who seemed genuinely amused by this spectacle), and I praised loudly, ready and able to back her up when the need arose, "Excellent "Dirty Dancing" reference!"

"Thank you, I appreciate that!" she threw over her shoulder and I grinned evilly. Her rant was about to unleash itself full-throttle. Jackson wouldn't know what hit him. "You have the audacity to call _me_ selfish? Yeah, I lied, I made a mistake, and I'm sorry about that- but I don't give a flying fuck anymore! I wasn't the one ready to jump into bed with the first girl I saw and I wasn't the one to cheat on my _wife!_ 'Cause, you know, I'm not the one who's _married_. You're the selfish one! You made me cross lines I vowed to never cross and you made me into an _interloper_. Guess what, asshat? I'm _nobody's_ damn mistress."

Right after her bout of fury, startling all of us, the window exploded and shattered into a million pieces. I choked down a gasp of horror. Did she just carelessly reveal who we were? Everyone stared at her in a whole new light, but she brushed it off like it didn't happen- or at the very least, she didn't care that it _did_ happen. "Oh, bloody hell." Giving into her "fuck it all" attitude, she said impetuously while picking up her stiletto shoes and marching out, "Y'know what? I'm not paying for that."

She purposely bumped into both Klaus and Elijah on the way all the while ignoring the shocked faces of the others. I bit back a smile in reaction to her sheer rudeness. She had no shame.

Everyone stared after her and a tiny ghost of a smile toyed at Hayley's lips. Someone just handed her husband his arse, and that had to taste savory. It was real obvious to me that Hayley hadn't even _begun_ to display her tsunami of rage to Jackson, though. She was waiting for privacy.

My sister just delivered a perfect, albeit melodramatic comeback, and I knew very well that I couldn't outdo her. But damn son, I could try- because I had choice words to share with a certain Mr. Manwhore. "Hello, good sir, you used my sister and then treated her like crap, so you're on my shit list." He at least had the decency to look ashamed. "You can go screw yourself, because your _wife's_ not gonna be giving you any action anytime soon!" Klaus left off a low whistle. "Have fun, Mr. Manwhore, because you know what they say: hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." Donning my most friendly smile, I left it that and did a little curtsey as his mouth dropped open.

Klaus started to obnoxiously clap as I went to follow my sister out the door, but I was quickly stopped by him as he moved to stand in my way. _Aw hell naw, he's not gonna ruin my night even further._

"Move," I ordered, scowling at the man. He clearly did not look intimidated by small stature- which was a bad mistake on his part.

"I agree, let's move to another room and let the couple discuss their quarrels while we discuss this situation at hand, young child," he grinned and Elijah shook his head warningly at Klaus. Great, they weren't gonna let that show of telekinesis go. This night was getting progressively worse.

"You have no right to keep me here so I recommend you move your sexy arse out of my way, please." His eyebrow tweaked up at the unnecessary and involuntary addition of "sexy," so I immediately regretted inserting that in. "You didn't hear that. I didn't say that. History never heard it, and it's erased. You've forgotten about it. Goodbye." Then I twirled around him and this time, he didn't block me.

And . . . my sister was gone. She must have run off somewhere to let her guard down and cry her eyes out. Because Jackson's insults hurt her, cut into her self-esteem. The thought of it made me clench my fists as tightly as I could and curse Mr. Manwhore's existence.

A steady hand came on my shoulder out of nowhere. Turning, Marcel was standing behind me looking at me with sad eyes.

"I'm sorry about all that, are you all right?" He lifted his hand up to my face to inspect my lip, but I batted it away.

"I don't have time for this, I need to find my sister." Turning on my heels, I began to swiftly make may way out of the building, but again I was cut off by Klaus. _Just great._

His devilish smile told me he was all too happy with what had played out. He was leaning against the boundary of the balcony that overlooked the party downstairs.

"I believe we've started off on the wrong foot. You and your sister are quite the characters," he complimented, but I just rolled my eyes to the ceiling. _If this guy makes my crappy night even crappier, I'mma shove my foot up his arse._

"That's lovely, thank you. If you would so kindly excuse me, I have places to be." When I began my trek down the stairs, he grabbed me by my arm and stopped me cold in my tracks. I glared murderously at his hand until he finally let go, but he made it clear that he wanted me to remain in the conversation. "Well fine then, have it your way."

He continued as if I hadn't tried to leave, "Your sister mentioned your last name as Kaslova before she shattered the window and that struck me as odd. Not a very English last name, is it?"

 _How weird._ During that entire messy confrontation, he picked up on _that_ snippet of information? This guy was a creeper. "Your name's Klaus, and that's German. You can't talk, now can you?"

His lips peeled back into a broad smile and dimples formed on his cheeks- they were admittedly rather adorable. They softened my irritation with him, which was extremely irrational, but if you saw those dimples . . . ! I had dimples, as well as Jessie, so maybe I was biased. "That's true. I've just known only one woman in all my years with that last name. . . ." He trailed off pensively.

"All your years?" I snorted. "You're like in your mid-twenties, yet you make it sound like you're some wise old sage."

Klaus chuckled and dipped his head to acknowledge my point, so I was at least a little bit validated. "Valiant effort, I must say. Not many witches would dare enter my home without my consent. Then again, after that little show with the way you spoke to your sister's married date, you clearly like to play with fate. I wouldn't want to test it further if I were you."

Only that guy could so easily insert a threat in the conversation and have it sound so casual. He was insane, batshit crazy. _Witches, what the heck is he talking about?_ Somebody had been reading too much _Harry Potter_.

My poor habit of playing with fire decided to rear its ugly head and before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "You do realize you are threatening a minor, right? I do believe you can be charged for that, sir." At least his accusation was temporarily avoided.

His lips curled back to reveal his perfect teeth, but his smile didn't exactly reach his eyes. "You are a funny little witch, aren't you? The same goes for your sister. Childish and rather annoying, but amusing nonetheless." His laugh was like mind-numbingly cold ice to my ears as I tried to piece through his statement. He really thought I was a witch. _Psycho._

As I read his expression, it became apparent to me that the same was taking place vice versa. Any trace of mirth he carried melted away as soberness replaced it. "You really don't know what you are, do you?" he inquired.

"No shit, Sherlock, 'cause I'm not a damn witch. Do I look like Hermione freaking Granger? My name is Amy Kaslova and I'm just a fifteen-year-old, not a witch. I'm hopping off the crazy train. Stay away from me." That was my decisive end to our pleasant conversation. It was a clean break.

I hurried down the stairs, an eerie sensation crawling its way up my spine. A fiery hole in the form of Klaus's unwavering gaze was searing into my back and a sense of vulnerability washed over me. Weaving my way through the dancing bodies, against my better judgement, I turned to take one last look at him. Unsurprisingly, his eyes were glued on me, but he didn't look angry. There was something . . . unfathomable about him, like he was in a deep, pensive state of musing.

It was difficult to shake that bizarre encounter off, but try I did. Finding my sister was higher on my priority list than analyzing the conversation I had just taken part in. She could've been anywhere by now. Since we ditched our cell phones earlier, I had to search for her the old-fashioned way. By foot.

I wandered the streets, looking anywhere and everywhere for my sister. Each road led to a new party full of colors, music, and dancing. Yet, not one seemed to lead to my sister. She had to have been distraught from her situation with Mr. Manwhore, and the last thing she needed was to be alone, but she was nowhere in sight.

Fear was building up in my stomach, twisting it up into uncomfortable knots- if Jessie was hurt . . .

After running up and down the streets of the French Quarter for a half hour, exhaustion got the better of me. My feet were bloody and blistered, and I coveted a nice warm bath to soak the pain away. And I _really_ needed to sleep off my drunken stupor.

"Bloody hell," I cursed under my breath. "That girl better have gone back to the room." _Or I don't know what I'll do_.

Limping my way back to the motel, I trudged over to the elevator and allowed to carry me to my destination. At long last, I stood in front of my motel room and twisted my key into the lock, pushing the door open with a shrill _creeaaaak_.

Any thought of being pissed at her for running off and ditching me evaporated into thin air. Her eyes were rimmed with a vibrant red, and noticeable tracks of sticky tears stained her cheeks. But that wasn't what got to me.

I wanted to break every bone in Mr. Manwhore's body. Sitting on the bed, Jessie was playing her cherished violin, drawing the bow up and down the strings in such a way tears sprung to my eyes. It was a sweet, melodious, mournful sound, for she was playing the song she always performed when she'd been hurt.

 _Ashokan Farewell._ Jessie poured every ounce of her heart and soul into that song, and as a result, its product was exquisitely and hauntingly beautiful. Closing my eyes, I just listened. I purged my mind of all thoughts of Leon, the cops, the Mikaelson party, Klaus's ominous conversation . . . everything. Hell, I forgot all my troubles, forgot my entire life, I practically forgot my own name because I was so lost in the song. And for the entirety of the piece, I didn't want to be found.

The last note cut off abruptly and I lifted my head- her sobs had hindered her ability to play. "Jessie . . ."

She flippantly tossed her violin onto the bed and jumped to her feet, pacing furiously. Fresh tears rolled down her face and she clawed at her neck, leaving visible jagged scratch marks. It hurt me how little she cared about her own well-being. "I am such an _idiot!_ I am! I'm a bloody idiot."

 _No, not again._ Jessie was entering one of her dark bouts of self-loathing, and it was always so difficult to lift her self-esteem again. That was the crux of the issue. She could snark and joke all she wanted, but it was to cover how truly little self-worth she carried. "Jessie, that's not true. You didn't know he was married-"

"That doesn't matter!" she screamed, not at me, but at _everything_. So, I fell silent, not keen to interrupt one of her rages. "I still lied to him! And just because he put his damn wedding ring in his pocket- he must've- doesn't mean I'm not a bloody fucking idiot! Jackson was completely right about me! I was so selfish to lie to him like that. That's all I am, Amy. I'm a selfish, stupid _whore_."

"Stop!" I half-shouted, about ready to slap some sense in her. I hurried over to her and grabbed her none too gently by the shoulders, shaking her until she could see the truth. "Stop belittling yourself like that! None of that's true, none of it!"

Jessie shoved me backwards, viciously, but I let it go. She was beyond upset at this point. She was hysterical. " _Shut up! Just shut up! You're lying!_ "

Her breaths were coming in rapid, desperate gasps as she shouted through her tears, "There's no point to me! All I do is sleep with a different guy every night, drink and smoke pot, and steal stuff for a living! I'm a fucking waste of space. I thought he was a good guy, Amy, I really did. I _liked him_. He was kind and actually _listened_ to me-" her crying became too hard to speak, but she muddled on, "and . . . and I t-thought he liked me, t-too. I-I thought that maybe, j-just _maybe_ we h-had something between us. B-but no, he was j-just using me to get b-back at his wife. I'm s-so _stupid_ to have ever even _thought_ t-that he liked me! How c-could I be so dumb?! How c-could _anybody_ like me?"

She collapsed to the ground in her sobs and I dove forward to cradle her head to my chest, gently rocking her back and forth and shushing her like she was a small child. "You're okay, Jessie, everything's okay. Leon's going to come and help us out, and then everything's going to be just fine. You don't need Jackson. Just forget about him. Forget about all those guys who only want to sleep with us. Forget that we comply every single damn time. It's just you and me, you and me against the world. The way it should be."

Jessie was too distraught to answer, but I knew she was at the very least listening. Soon enough, her cries tired her enough to knock her out, and she fell asleep right on the floor. I didn't want to move her, and feared waking her, so I resigned to a night on the crusty old carpet.

 _It's just you and me, Jessie._

 **A/N: So, what did you think? Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let us know! Why do you think Klaus was so interested in them? A little hint here. We're diverging from, erm, "canon rules."**


	5. Denial Is Not Just a River in Egypt

**A/N: The latest Originals episode. Oh my God. The heartbreak, the feels. You guys need to watch it. It's . . . gah, it still hurts to talk about. You'll understand when you see it.**

 **Thanks so much for the feedback and support of this story! We love it and it keeps us motivated.**

 **This chapter is going to be pretty short, but we're almost done with the next one already, which is quite long. And guess what? Kol's in both of these chapters! Yaaaaay, we love writing Kol. Kol's appearance in this chapter is brief, but he has a huge role in the next chapter. This chapter has lots of Mikaelson sibling interactions.**

 **Okay, so, like we mentioned before, we're tweaking canon rules. We aren't really fans of The Vampire Diaries, but we do know that's where Klaus got his hybrid curse "lifted." It's presumed that he could thus only procreate** ** _after_** **that. In this story, even though his hybrid side was dormant, he could still procreate, but it was obviously much harder and less likely. In this story, though, we have those exceptions.**

 **Oh, and Finn's alive in this story. Did we mention that already? Probably. Obviously, he hasn't quite forgiven any of them for his imprisonment, but they're all working on becoming a family again.**

 **Anyway, that's all. Please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :D**

 **Disclaimer: We aren't Julie Plec, and we do not own the Originals. No Klaus for us. :( However, we do own Amy, Jessica, and Leon, as well as any other OCs we create later on.**

 **Chapter 5: Denial Is Not Just a River in Egypt**

 **Klaus's Perspective**

The impertinent young fawn finished her conversation with me without my consent, storming off with her head held high. That was when I noticed it.

Before, when she was standing near her sister, crusted blood on her neck caught my attention. Originating from two perfect holes- one of the vampire guest's control must have slipped momentarily.

But now, the wound was perfectly healed and only the dried blood remained. That troubled me deeply- her sister was a witch, obviously, so I assumed the same for young Amy. Now it became apparent that neither twin could _just_ be a witch.

Their last name was Kaslova. My paranoia was creeping towards the surface because I in fact had known a woman named Viktoria Kaslova- and I'd known her _intimately_. There was no way, there was no possible way. . . .

I knew that woman nearly sixteen years ago and the twins were . . . fifteen years old. We spent a week together in London- a wonderful, wonderful week. I still thought about her from time to time. She was gorgeous- even for a werewolf, which she in fact was. She had long, lush beach waves of blonde hair and beautiful, enticing _green eyes._ The twins' eyes were identical copies of Viktoria's.

 _No, no, no, no, no. I'm just being a paranoid fool. She had to have been with somebody else. I only have one child, Hope,_ I thought to myself. Maybe, just maybe if I thought it enough, then it would become true. That I only had one daughter. It _had_ to be true. . . .

"Brother," Elijah growled, startling me from my pondering. I felt he him glaring holes in the back of my head with some sort of punitive thought- perhaps one of his stern, brotherly lectures he adored unleashing on me so much was on its way.

I turned to meet my brother's eyes as they bore straight through me, right to my soul. He was furious with me and it seemed to physically fume off him, even though he remained as perfectly calm and even-keeled as ever.

"Is there something I can help you with, brother?" I asked with a sneer. He was bound to know that this would come after knowing what Jackson had done to corrupt my sweet, innocent Hope.

Without anything more said, he turned on his heels and entered the nearest room, expecting me to follow him. In which I did, I was no craven, although I did not desire the part that was surely to happen next.

Elijah then spun around and pointed right at me, his hand trembling in the rage he was carefully keeping at bay. "Did I not specifically tell you to leave their relationship alone? Few times do I actually ask something of you and even then, you cannot deliver. I didn't want you to hurt her, brother, but you did. You broke her heart, and for that, you will pay." Yes, yes, he vowed revenge on me often enough these days- but he always got over it. Whether it be his lover Gia, or Hayley's curse, he eventually moved past it.

"I fail to see what you are trying to accuse me of, Elijah." This was a bold move on my part, but from my perspective, there were no other options left. "From what I see, it is not I you should be irate with, but Jackson. He is the one who cheated on your love and put his hands on a child." The last one was a bit of a stretch, considering the circumstances, but I had to pull out all the stops.

"Nikaus, do not twist this incident in favor of yourself. Your selfish needs are more important to you than anything or anyone else, and yet you continue to avoid thinking that it isn't so. Your actions always affect others negatively yet you neglect to realize why people shy away from you, why even your own family can't trust you." He saying that he couldn't trust me was cruel in itself to hear, even without all the other accusations.

Pushing down any emotions that may have surfaced at his hurtful jabs, I changed the subject with a steady voice, "Their last name, Elijah."

A spark of curiosity ignited in his eyes, but the anger mostly masked it. "I fail to see how a last name pertains to our current dealings, but if you must, do enlighten me."

His cynicism did not go unnoticed, but I supposed he did have the right, if he felt that I "betrayed" him. "The two sisters we met tonight, Amy and Jessica. Their last name is not unbeknownst to me. Kaslova. That name coincides with a story that occurred sixteen years ago in the lively city of London. I've told you of Viktoria, and our adventures together. They're fifteen, and straight out of London, Elijah. The timeline . . ."

Elijah nearly spoke to presumably debunk my theories, but retracted at the last moment as he considered it. I could see the gears shifting inside of his head and watched the anger seep from his countenance as the facts dawned on him. "So, you're under the impression that they're your daughters? Even before your hybrid curse was lifted, you feel it's possible you sired those children?"

Just then, eloquently shattering the bone-crushing tension, Rebekah with Marcellus on her tail stalked into the room with an indignant air about her. She demanded, "Are you having a family meeting without me?"

I glowered at the two of them for daring to interrupt our highly significant conversation and Marcel limply defended himself with, "Hey, she dragged me along here."

"You're family," Rebekah snapped over her shoulder, then directed her attention back solely to us. "Now, start talking." I loved her dearly, even with how little I told her that and how often I hurt her, but she truly was the epitome of the bratty little sister. However much Elijah doted on her, I knew full well that he was inclined to agree. All of our brothers understood that. Kol informed her of that fact almost every day, although he didn't have much of a leg to stand on, being the bratty little brother he was of Finn, Elijah, and I.

"Sister, this conversation does not involve you," I informed her hotly, and Elijah cast me a look. He could begrudge me all he wanted, her presence at the moment was still unnecessary and unwanted.

"Well, I bloody well think it does! I'm your little sister, and that means I get to butt into your business, whether you like it or not!" I rolled my eyes, but her remark only seemed to amuse Elijah. _Damn him_. "I overheard a bit and why in the world are you bringing up Viktoria of all people? You knew her for a week at best, and yet according to Elijah, you pined for her incessantly." Yes, _this_ was why she was unnecessary and unwanted here.

"Niklaus appears to believe that young Amy and Jessica are his daughters," Elijah said offhandedly to Rebekah and Marcel as he poured himself a drink. _That bastard._ Rebekah's eyes bugged open and her jaw dropped open as Marcel looked to me quickly for an assertion on the subject.

"Thank you for your lovely insinuation, Elijah," I hissed at him and his lips curved back into a sardonic smile, "but I believe no such thing. I have only one child, and that's Hope. Nothing can change that."

Rebekah just didn't know when to cut her losses and leave. "You believe Viktoria is their mother? You were with Viktoria sixteen years ago, were you not?"

Marcel added oh so helpfully, "I was talking to Amy for a bit and she _did_ admit to being fifteen. If you were with Viktoria sixteen years ago, then the timeline-"

"Enough!" I shouted loudly enough for everyone to quiet down. "Viktoria had to have been with somebody else! She was a werewolf, I knew that. I-I . . . I need to find out if the girls are activated werewolves."

Elijah's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Why should that matter? We've established that they're witches, what difference-"

"Amy healed right in front of me," I interrupted him, impatient to continue on with my ideas. "A bite on her neck, it healed."

Marcel was nodding before I even finished my sentence and mentioned, "One of my guys had attacked her, and I threw him off before he could get far enough to do any real damage."

That didn't help me in the slightest, so I continued on as if he hadn't spoken, "If their werewolf genes are activated, then that explains Amy's rapid healing. If not, then . . ."

"Only your blood in their system could heal them so quickly," Rebekah concluded in her quick-witted, clever way. "Like Hope."

"Their wolf genes are activated," I insisted, "that's the answer. Or, Amy already had vampire blood in their system."

"I didn't give her any vamp blood," Marcel defended himself. "I don't know, Klaus, she just thought some random creep bit her. She didn't even mention vampires. I don't think she knows they exist. From what she was saying about being a witch, I don't think she knows _any_ of this supernatural stuff exists. And I don't think werewolves can heal _that_ quickly. . . ."

I no longer wanted to hear any more of Marcel's lies. "No more of this talk. I have one child, and I intend to keep it that way. Tomorrow, we shall prove what we already know- that they're werewolves. They have to be. Then this whole misunderstanding shall be over, and there can be peace once more."

"You're awfully optimistic on the subject, brother," Elijah just had to point out as he swirled his bourbon around in his glass. "Writing the young girls off does not erase them from existence."

"They are of no importance or meaning to me," I said with an icy coldness, because it was true. I only had one conversation with Amy which was undesirable at best, and barely shared two words with the other twin. "I want the truth revealed so I can leave this unfortunate predicament behind me."

Before anymore could be said, the sound of little feet came to my attention and soon thereafter, Hope ran in the room squealing, "Daddy!"

I couldn't help the smile that came to my face as she ran into my arms. It was such a relief that she knew _I_ was her daddy, not Jackson, however confusing it had to be for her.

I lifted her up and held her with one arm so she was eye level with me. She was an adorable child who took after her mother with her long, dark brown hair adorned in pigtails, a slight tan, and angular facial structure, but her stormy blue eyes were all mine. As well as the hint of the devil in her irises. At the moment, she revealed her little white teeth in a brilliant smile.

"Hello, sweetheart, how was your time spent with Aunt Freya?" I asked, trying to hold back from talking to her in the soft way I usually did when we were alone. I failed rather dismally. It was hard to be angry at anything when she was around. Little Hope was my single weakness, but she was well worth it.

Rebekah laughed at the encounter. She loved little Hope so very much, but every time they were together I could see the glint of sadness in her eyes. It was easy to see she wished to have a child of her own. She had wanted that for more than a millennia.

Freya then entered the room, looking a little flustered- once Hope learned to toddle, she expertly evaded her non-vampire aunt on many separate occasions. "Sorry about that, the little thing ran off in search of her daddy."

"Don't worry about it, dear sister." I smiled as Hope wrapped her little arms around my neck and rested her head on my shoulder. I cupped the back of her head and stroked at her silky locks of hair.

"I deem this the end of this useless conversation," I said softly but forcefully once I noticed Hope nod off into a deep slumber. "I would like to put my littlest wolf to bed, she doesn't need to be hearing any of this nonsense."

"Wait, what have I missed?" Freya asked, shooting Elijah a confused look. _Oh lovely, now instead of one meddling sister, I am blessed with two._

"Lots of things, sister," remarked Rebekah with a cheeky smile in place. She would be the bloody end of me. Marcel lazily slung his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him- both of them appeared to be enjoying this far more than they should've. "Nik has several _indiscretions_ that he would love to keep hidden."

"It seems our dear brother seems to have reason to believe he has more than one child," Elijah said with a tastefully cruel smile. He was going to torture me with this. My elder brother could very much hold his grudges. It wasn't like I ruined _his_ marriage. I was doing him a favor! With Jackson out of the way, he could have Hayley all to himself- something he'd wanted since he first laid eyes on her. He should have been _thanking_ me.

"Shall I get you a loud speaker so you don't have to waste your breath telling everyone who walks in the room?" I asked, inserting as much venom in my tone as physically possible, ignoring the eyes of my other family members that were boring into my skull.

"What do you mean another _child?"_ Freya gasped, but I was done with my siblings for the night. So very done.

As if on cue, in walked my current two least favorite siblings, Finn and Kol, whom decided to grace us with their presence. Kol must have just arrived back from a night out with his witch girlfriend, young Davina- I was honestly surprised he didn't stay for the party, as he loved parties, but he had other plans. Now Finn didn't even come down once, instead lurking about upstairs. He must have heard the chaos with Hayley and her unfaithful husband, but he stayed clear of it.

"Are you having a family meeting without the handsomest of us all?" Kol whined then swiveled his body to face Finn in jest. "Of course, Finn, in case I just brought your hopes up- I am _indeed_ talking about myself." My little brother wasn't known for his shyness, something I'd always liked about him, even when he annoyed me to no end. Finn just sported his typical "I-am-extremely-unamused-with-all-of-you" expression.

"So, I just managed to overhear-" Kol began with a poorly feigned innocence, but I cut him off before he could drive me further up a wall.

"Oh this is just bloody fantastic," I groaned in exasperation. "You know what? You all chat, plot against me, whatever you like to do when I'm not around. I'm going to put my daughter to bed."

"You do that," said Kol with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "for her well-being, of course, because I _am_ her favorite uncle."

Elijah, instead of being the "bigger man" and letting it go, scoffed contemptuously, "I do believe you are out of your mind, brother, for I am quite obviously her favorite uncle-"

Storming off and not bothering to hear the rest of it, I made it to Hope's room without any further obstacles before I was rudely interrupted by one of my siblings yet again.

"Leave, or it will not matter if we are family or not, I will make you paint on my daughter's walls." My voice was emotionless and cold- perfectly trained. I just wanted to be left to my thoughts and my daughter, but in this house it seem to be an impossible feat.

"Elijah filled me in." Freya spoke with a certain benevolent tone that the others didn't seem to possess. Out of all of us, I had known her the least amount of time, but something about her brought order to the chaos in our lives and for that I was grateful. I would never tell her such a fact, though. After all, she just _had_ to find a way to bring Finn back in the flesh.

Well, since she was in on it, I resigned to confide in her, "Do you not agree that it is just a rather ridiculous thought that stemmed from the paranoia that you all clearly believe I have? It's all just a tangled web of coincidences."

"I think that is what you wish to be true." She came and sat next to be as I held the sleeping Hope in my arms.

Hope wasn't going to awake at this point. From watching my daughter, I had learned sleep came easier to those unburdened with the darkness that lied heavily on the backs of my family. I heard many a night when my siblings moved throughout the compound, restless as their demons plagued them.

"I think we've all figured that out," I said a little too harshly than I meant to. "I'm asking what _you_ think."

Caressing Hayley's cherubic cheek with her thumb, she asked of me with complete sincerity, "What did you feel when you first saw them? What did your instincts tell you?"

Well, if she was being so earnest, I owed her a little honesty of my own. "Well, I was frankly amused when one twin tried to shack up with Hayley's husband, to be completely honest, it worked out quite well. As for young Amy, she reminded me of Rebekah, a bit of a bitch, but I didn't hate her."

Freya, visibly fighting the urge to roll his eyes, admitted, "Guess I shouldn't have started off with that question. Anyway, do you feel any type of connection with them?"

"No," I said, attempting to evade further explanation, but Freya wouldn't let up. "They were merely two girls whom so happened to assist in one of my plans. Nothing more."

Standing up, Freya looked at me with sad eyes that saw straight through me. "Whatever you need to tell yourself, Nik. Come talk to me when you want to be honest."

With that being said she left, closing the door softly behind her. Her words hit me rather deeply. Again, Freya's willingness to taunt me was surprising, but I didn't hate her for it. I reserved that place for Kol on occasion.

Rising, I gently lay Hope into her bed and tucked her in without waking the child. Kissing her on her cheek, I took my place in the corner rocking chair, watching over Hope as she rested. Nothing and nobody would come between the bond Hope and I shared- I wouldn't let it happen. Never.

 **A/N: So, what'd you think? Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let us know! Jessie's perspective is up next, with a whole lot of Kol :D.**


	6. Kindred Spirits

**A/N: OMG you guys did you see the latest Originals episodes? GNSAHJFBHDSJBHRABSFHRABFHJDSABK. The feels are overwhelming. We repeat: the feels are overwhelming. Elijah and Klaus and Marcel and Davina and gaaaaaaah, so many tears. Just . . . watch them. It'll break you, but you need to see them.**

 **We promised you a chapter with lots of Kol, did we not? We put our money where our mouth is. You want Kol? We'll give you Kol.**

 **Thanks sooooo much to everyone who has favored, followed, and reviewed this story! We love you guys!**

 **Without further ado, please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :D**

 **Disclaimer: We aren't Julie Plec, and we do not own the Originals. No Klaus for us. :( However, we do own Amy, Jessica, and Leon, as well as any other OCs we create later on.**

 **Chapter 6: Kindred Spirits**

 **Jessica's Perspective**

When I fell asleep the night before, I felt like the scum of the Earth. Waking up the next morning was a whole new league of crappy. Not only was my head pounding like something else entirely (damn those vodka shots!), but my self-esteem was drowned in the sewers. The term "worthless" held a whole new meaning for me.

Amy was still sleeping relatively peacefully. On the floor. Great, I made her stay all night on the crusty carpet for my pathetic arse. I shook off those never-ending thoughts that didn't do anything but weigh me down, and prepared for the day.

Peeling off my dress that I planned on burning to ash sometime in the near future, I attempted to allow the steaming hot water of a shower relax my tense muscles. Soon enough, I found myself rubbing soap on every inch of my body with an astounding ferocity.

I needed to be clean after last night. I needed to rid myself of the shame, the guilt, the hurt and let it wash off me, but it was so _hard_. It felt permanently glued to my skin and however much I tried to scrub it off, it wouldn't leave me.

My sobs were kept quiet, lower than the sound of the running water, as to not alert Amy. She had enough on her plate, she didn't need to shoulder my problems too.

My skin was raw and red by the time I was finished, and still, all those horrid emotions lay present. It was futile to exorcise myself of them because they'd always be with me- I would always somehow screw everything up again, and they would rear their ugly heads.

I turned off the shower with a frustrated cry and stepped out, staring at myself in the mirror before I had to turn away. It was damn near impossible to look at myself now and see what I had become.

Kneeling over to pick up a stray towel and dry myself with it, I caught my tattoo of "Fate loves the fearless" out of the corner of my eye through the mirror. I laughed bitterly- I would always have my courage, but fate sure as hell didn't love me for it.

After furiously scrubbing the makeup off my face and applying new, less heavy makeup, I was finished.

Coming out from the bathroom after my eyes didn't look so red from crying, I found Amy, fully dressed in an elegant lacy white dress that had clear, colorless lace to show some skin around her waist. But it was tasteful. She added to her outfit with tan flats that came up in spirals of ties that came up to just below her knees. Amy tended to always dress nicely for someone of our age. It was another reason why she was more approachable than myself.

Her shoulder-length hair was sticking to her face, water dripping off it and on to her shoulders. Amy must have washed it in the sink . . . while I was crying like a helpless baby. _Bloody wonderful._ She was now sitting on the bed applying makeup to her delicate pale skin. She looked almost soft today, compared to her stern demeanor last night with Jackson and company.

I had to push down a sudden sharp stab of envy. She was so effortlessly beautiful, and was always so calm and collected, like she had everything figured out and nothing and nobody could touch her. While I just had to constantly wear my heart on my sleeve like a bloody idiot, and then wonder why it so often was stolen then broken.

I tried not to look at Amy as I clothed myself. I was nowhere near as classy as her, today I just decided to adorn myself in my beloved Queen T-shirt that I artfully sliced into a tank top and a crop top, my military-style cargo pants (they're really comfortable, m'kay), and my obnoxiously bright canary yellow Converse. Yup, I was rollin' like a gangsta.

I pulled back my long waves of hair to reveal my highly pierced ears and my tattoo on my shoulders, popped in my ADHD meds, and then I was good to go. On the outside, hopefully, I looked normal and functioning. It wouldn't do for anybody to see me falling apart. No more than they already had, in Amy's case.

Amy looked up from her makeup, seeing me, and stood a little awkwardly. Yes, she must have heard me crying in the shower. This day was starting on _such_ a high note, wasn't it? "Sorry, I didn't see you there. How are you doing, Jessie?"

She walked over to me and pulled me into a hug. Not meaning to, I stiffened at her touch, causing her to retract. She looked at me as if I were glass, so delicate but easily broken. I knew she wanted to help, but there was nothing she could do.

Taking my silence as an answer, she continued, "Well, now that we are both seemingly ready, how about lunch?"

"Might as well." I shrugged, and we were off. Once we were gone from the crappy hotel, after avoiding the front desk lady who was still under the impression that our parents were coming, we roamed the streets of the French Quarter.

The sunlight was pure hell- all I wanted to do was crawl into a dark, damp hole and live out the rest of my days. Gone were the days where nausea came along with heavy drinking, though, I trained myself against it.

"Ugh," Amy groaned, "we should find the nearest bar and grab a drink to wash all the hangover away." I scoffed at that, but then found myself agreeing. _Huh_.

Sticking my arm out to the side to stop her in our tracks, I asked her seriously, "Amy, are we alcoholics?"

Her brow crumpled in thought, but only for a brief moment. "Nah. We're only fifteen, we're too young to be full-blown alcoholics. We just like to have fun."

I shrugged, going along with that answer. It was easier to deal with than the other option. "Yeah, okay, you're probably right." The doubt was still present in me, though.

Instead of a bar, we found some diner to grab lunch at. It was awfully crowded, but crowded was our _scene_. Scratch that, Amy's scene. I didn't particularly like people, in case you haven't noticed.

As we stood by the door and judged how strong our desire was to eat here, I overheard a snippet of a conversation. "I can't believe Rebekah and Marcel left the little person with us to go have their own fun. Bekah will pay for this."

It was a male's voice, a whiny one at that. But that wasn't what peaked my interest. It was the names he mentioned. Rebekah and Marcel . . . they were there to witness my slip in judgement. She was the stately blonde woman and he was the handsome African American man to hand me my dress before anyone else could catch a glimpse of my undergarments.

Amy was eavesdropping as well. Just when I thought I was rid of all that "Mikaelson family and company" drama, it followed me. A soft-spoken female voice answered, "Kol . . . ! She's sitting right here. Keep coloring, Hope, don't let your uncle bother you." She then seemed to address the male again. "I'm surprised Klaus let her out of his sight in the first place. I don't think he'd be too happy if he found out she was with us- well, you specifically."

The male voice was indignant. "I'm her favorite uncle, Davina, isn't that right, adorable spawn of Klaus?" He didn't allow the "little person" to answer. "I don't even need an answer, I know it's true. Ah ah ah," he chided her playfully, "don't you start trying to namedrop Elijah. I refuse to believe it, I _know_ I'm your favorite. Anyway, Davina, Klaus is busy anyway, what with his new exciting research project (really, we are just enabling his paranoia). And Hayley can't exactly watch the little person when she's screaming at her soon to be ex-husband, now can she?"

That was all I needed to hear- I was too ashamed of that incident to continue listening in, so I rushed forward and found Amy and I a booth. Amy followed me with her eyebrows raised.

"Well, that was a bloody strange coincidence," she remarked. I just shrugged it off because I didn't want to talk about it, and as the waitress floated by, we ordered chocolate milkshakes, hamburgers, and a basket of chips to split between us.

"So, it sounds like Hayley and Klaus have a kid together, Hope," Amy mused as she slurped on her milkshake once it arrived.

"Good for them," I muttered darkly, practically inhaling the gloriously salty French fries. It still weirded me out to call them "fries," but I was in America long enough to learn not to call them "chips."

"So it sounds like whoever that guy was, he was the kid's uncle, so he's probably Klaus's brother." Oh brilliant, she wasn't done!

"Probably." I didn't even _try_ to feign interest.

"Maybe he lives in that house, too."

"Maybe."

"Do you think there are anymore siblings other than Klaus, Elijah, Kol, and . . . well, I got the impression that blonde Rebekah is their sister."

"Mmhmm."

"I wonder what he meant by Klaus's research project." It was becoming extremely arduous to not roll my eyes. A difficult feat. Hmm . . . would my self-control prevail? Nope. I rolled my eyes dramatically and Amy huffed at me.

I obnoxiously and blatantly scanned the room, as if searching for something in particular. "Looking for fucks to give, looking for fucks to give. . . . Hmm, I count one, two, maybe thr- oh wait, no, they flew away." I smirked with as much smugness as I could muster.

"I'm just curious, that's all," she defended herself, taken aback by my bout of rudeness. "You don't have to be so nasty about it."

"What do you expect me to _say?_ If you're curious, do it on your own time, then, I don't need to hear about them. I've seen enough of all of them, and they've seen enough of me. If we don't see each other ever again, then it'll be too soon."

She appraised me for a long moment and I unflinchingly met her gaze. "Well, Jessie, you're definitely not a people person, huh?"

"I admire your keen observation skills, you're a right Sherlock Holmes!" She looked about ready to up and ditch me, not that I could very well blame her, I wasn't treating her too kindly. Especially with how supportive she was the night before.

"I'm so close to leaving right now-" Before she could finish presumably handing me my ass, a tiny person came rushing to our table with a huge, shit-eating smile spread across her face.

"I'm playing hide-and-seek," she squealed joyfully, and without invitation, hauled up her little bod on my side of the booth. "You can't tell them where I am!"

Amy burst out into laughter as I stared at the tiny child with pure befuddlement. Not only was I not a people-person, but I wasn't too comfortable around kids either. They kinda scared me, in a "I'll murder you in your sleep with a big stupid smile and then eat some bloody ice cream while I'm at it" kind of way.

Or maybe I was just jealous, who knew? As I scooted over to form a barrier of space between the little mongrel and myself, Amy stuck her hand across the table and said in her little baby voice, "Hi, my name's Amy and this is my sister, Jessie. What's your name, sweetheart?"

Ugh, so sugary sweet. "You're gonna give her diabetes with that voice," I muttered and Amy flipped me off under the table before returning her full attention to the miniature human. Well, that wasn't very nice at all.

"My name's Hope!" _Oh, fan-fucking-tastic, she's the Mikaelson kid! They're stalking me, I can't be free of them!_

Amy's mouth dropped open into a perfect "O" as she also put the pieces together. "Oh! Well, er, nice to meet you, Hope! Are you hiding from your uncle?"

And there was her first misstep. How would she know about Hope's uncle if we hadn't been eavesdropping? _Way to go, Amy, real sharp!_

Luckily, Hope couldn't have been more than three years old, so she didn't pick on Amy's slip of tongue. "Yeah!" she giggled almost manically and I snorted into my shake. "Unca Kol and Davina won't find me! I'm so goodly at hiding!"

"Congratulations," I said slyly under my breath, then, "Davina is a total stripper name, isn't it?" and Amy kicked me under the table in the shin. Pain shot up my leg and I pouted. I did not appreciate her abuse.

"You don't want to scare your uncle, right?" Amy was fumbling at an attempt to be stern, but her scold was as soft as a fluffy bunny.

"He and Davina is making kissy face," the baby human whined and Amy shook her head fondly. "It was gross, so I ran away to play my _own_ game. Play with me! Let's go play hide-and-seek!"

As if on cue, a relatively loud male shout sounded, "Where's the little person? Davina, where did the little person go? Little person!"

A surprisingly handsome brunette man with distinctively elfish features skidded in front of our table. As Hope smiled up at him, the mild worry melted off his face and he picked her up, swinging her around. "Ah, there you are, darling, don't do that to me again. If I lost you, I would be the first name on your father's kill list. And it wouldn't be the first time, mind you."

A pretty brunette girl (woman, sort of) hurried by his side and rubbed little Hope's back comfortingly. "Hope, you can't run off like that! You really scared Kol and I."

"You was making kissy face," the bitty human complained almost tearfully, burying her head under her uncle's chin for safekeeping. Davina blushed and Kol cupped the back of the tiny human's head and played with her locks of silky dark hair. The two of them looked properly embarrassed to have been the main reason the child ran off.

The two adults just noticed us for the first time in that entire ordeal. Kol perked up and an impish grin came across his face, "Why hello, look what the small child has found, two beautiful women!"

Davina smacked him hard on the arm and he stuck out his lip like a kicked puppy. Hope laughed wildly at their antics. "C'mon Kol, we've bothered them enough already."

"We're fifteen, you perv," I growled, earning me another kick from under the table. I fixed Amy with a wounded look, but only received a smirk in return.

He seemed to take a second to consider things before continuing, "Would your names happen to be Amy and Jessica?"

Horror filled every inch of my body, but I shoved it down. _I really earned myself a reputation last night. . . ._ "Well, that doesn't seem to be any of your business, now does it?"

"Well that's answer enough, mind if we take a seat?" Without waiting for a response, he slid himself right next to me in the booth and pulled Hope into his lap. I shot daggers at him, but he wasn't daunted. _Brave bloke._

Amy snickered and offered a seat to Davina next to her. _Traitor,_ I grumbled in my head.

"I don't wanna to sit here, boys have cooties. I wanna sit with Amy and Divi," Hope squeaked, interrupting the tense flow between Kol and myself. She wiggled out of his lap before he could respond and crawled under the table and sat herself between the two girls.

"Well, I feel under-appreciated," I lamented as she had herself settled down on the other side.

"Don't worry," Kol said jokingly, "I'll appreciate you!" He playfully slung his arm around my shoulders and Davina rolled her eyes at him in the classic jealous girlfriend persona.

"Much obliged," I retorted and his lips pulled back into a smirk that reminded me of my own. Even though I was pretty sure this bloke was supposed to be annoying me, I was mildly amused by him. I found myself liking him (not romantically, I had enough of that garbage), even though I had a feeling I should've been staying clear of any and all Mikaelsons.

He gave me this scrutinizing look that told me everything I needed to know- he knew _exactly_ what occurred the night before. "So, I've heard you, young Jessica, have been busy."

"Kol," Davina sighed in warning, as if he constantly stepped over the line and this was entirely expected. "Leave the girl alone."

"No, he's right," I answered, deciding to fight the urge of crawling into a dark cave and never leaving. "I wrecked a marriage last night, y'know, the usual. How 'bout you?"

Davina and Amy were both sympathetic, but the baby human took no notice of our conversation, instead munching on what chi- _fries_ we had left over. Kol just smiled again, completely unbothered by what I had just said. At least he wasn't judging me, he was the first one.

"Ah, well, we all knew it wasn't going to last anyway," he said in what was probably an effort to cheer me up. "No harm done! Well, no harm that wasn't going to happen in the near future if Elijah had anything to say about it-"

Davina furiously pointed at an oblivious Hope and Kol fell silent. A realization dawned on me. Hayley had to be her mother, Amy figured that out, the resemblance was uncanny, so . . . Jackson was her step-father. Why didn't I think of that a few minutes earlier? It just didn't occur to me, I supposed, because I didn't want to think about either of them at all.

My cheeks heated up with shame. I didn't just ruin a marriage, I destroyed a _family_.

"Aw, cheer up, darling." Kol gave me a comforting squeeze, but I still had this underlying suspicion that he had been mocking me the entire time. It was hard to tell with this man. "We've all done worse. Come, you two look to be in desperate need of fun, and I'm bored. Let's go have some _fun!"_

Now, you'd think we would've instantly denied him with the excuse that they were total strangers, right? Wrong. Well, it was what we _should've_ done. But Kol was right, I needed to have some fun and he just had an aura of it. This was my kind of person.

We found ourselves in a sports bar having the time of our lives. It wasn't busy at all, so we had free reign to goof off. Davina and Amy were chatting away like the best of friends, and I challenged Kol to a game of pool, fully intending on hustling his arse.

Hope observed us closely in fascination as I dusted off my rustiness and thoroughly beat him two games in a row. I started off badly and allowed him to gain confidence, then slowly and steadily stripped him of it. Or he allowed me to win, but I didn't want to consider that option.

On our third game, as I knocked my last ball into a hole, he tossed his pool stick to the side and accused, "You cheated! When I turned around to take drink my bourbon, you moved the white ball!"

I indignantly poked him in the chest with my own pool stick before returning it to its proper place. "Rubbish! I did not, you sore loser! You just can't handle the fact that not only am I far better than you, but you just got your arse handed to you by a fifteen-year-old girl two times!" It wasn't like I hadn't cheated before or to make good money, but this time I did not. Hustled him, yeah, but cheated, no.

"I refuse to believe your lies," said he petulantly, downing the rest of his glass. I slapped him on the arm playfully and he smacked me back.

Rubbing my shoulder ruefully, I teased him with, "Hey, I'll be generous, you don't have to give me my well-deserved money."

Still, he fished two twenties out of his wallet and tossed them in my general direction. "Why thank you, kind sir."

He only sneered at me in response before strolling up to the bar to refill his drink. I joined him and asked, "Hey, can you order me one?"

He smugly replied, "Oh, but I do believe you just rubbed in my face that you were a _fifteen-year-old_ , did you not?" I gaped at him for throwing that back in my face. _So rude_. I adorned my best puppy-dog face and propped my chin up on his bicep.

"Pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaase? I'll _even_ let you win next time!" He fired me a dirty look after shrugging me off, but did end up buying Davina, Amy, and I a each a beer bottle. The bartender was too distracted to notice him handing off the drinks.

I sat myself up on the pool table and sipped at my beer, and Kol sat down next to me. "Well, I know a Londoner when I see one- how long have you been in New Orleans?"

"Well, you don't exactly sound American," I countered, then answered honestly, "This is our first _real_ day. It was kind of a spontaneous thing."

"Ah, well, what spurred this spontaneous decision?"

What was I supposed to tell him, we were dodging the cops? That wouldn't make a very good impression on him. So, I evaded him with, "What is this, "Twenty Questions?" Let's go join the others." I ran for the table (the little adorable goblin child had long since rejoined them) and Kol had no choice but to follow.

Here was one thing that was awfully convenient. Tiny Hope had fallen asleep in Amy's lap (our joyously fun day must have tired the poor sap out), so we didn't have to keep our conversation G-rated.

"Let's play a game," Kol brought up amicably, but quietly for Hope's sake, as we all situated ourselves, brushing off his previous sullenness. "Let's play _Never Have I Ever._ But . . . the sex version. It's more fun. Since I chose the game, I'll start. Watch and learn, darlings." He formed an expression of deep musing and I chuckled at him. "Never have I ever . . . had sex with a man!"

He looked upon triumphantly as the rest of us were grudgingly forced to take a swig of our drinks. "That's not fair," Davina complained good-naturedly, "you're my boyfriend, of course I've . . ."

"He doesn't count," I remarked as I jabbed Kol in the side with my elbow, "he's a manchild." I dodged an elbow from him, but couldn't avoid a sharp smack to the back of my head. "Ow!" He only laughed at my pain.

"Never have I ever had sex on a rooftop," Amy offered once it became clear nobody was going to throw out any suggestions. Kol and I simultaneously gulped down a mouthful of our drinks (he a little more proudly than I) and Davina's mouth dropped open while Amy's eyebrows mingled with her hairline. Judgement at its finest.

"When and who was _that?_ " Davina crossed her arms and impatiently awaited his response.

"Ah, no matter, it's in the past and forgotten about . . . but it could be you next, love." With a seductive quirk of his lips, he craned his neck across the table and pressed his lips sensually against hers and she smiled, even in the kiss. She seemed to want to take him up on his offer. That show of affection was undeniably adorable, so I just had to ruin it.

"Aw, so sweet . . . get a room, you two." With a sheepish grin, Davina pulled away and Kol returned to his seat.

Since Kol was a little put out because I stomped all over his special moment, he directed toward me, "So, you fifteen-year-old strumpet," I didn't take much offense to that, there was no arguing it, "why, pray tell, did you have intimate relations upon a rooftop?"

I decided to keep my story short and sweet, but as what was typical, that didn't go the way I originally planned. "It was a few months ago. He was seventeen years old, hot- kind of like a young John Stamos, but maybe not _that_ gorgeous . . . I digress. Anyway, we had too much to drink, it was reasonably cool out, and that was one fine rooftop-"

"How romantic," interrupted Kol sarcastically, but I chose to take it literally, much to the chagrin of my sister who knew all too well how far my rambling could take me.

"It actually kind of was- there was a pleasant breeze, he was a nice, courteous guy, the stars were unusually bright considering it was New York City-" Kol looked entirely unamused since I was stalling our game, so I hastily ended my speech. "We had okay, decent sex and separated as soon as the sun came up, the end. All right, who's going next?" Before anyone could volunteer, I cried, "I will, thanks for asking! Never have I ever . . . had sex in a _library_."

Thank all the deities that Hope Mikaelson was a deep sleeper.

Surprisingly, the only person to drink at that was Amy, who blushed a crimson hue as we gawked at her. "A library, Amy?" I chortled out of disbelief. "What, did you roll around right next to _The Iliad_?"

Amy scrambled to defend herself with, "There was this row that nobody ever went to- encyclopedias or something, and we made it quick and nobody caught us. Next."

Davina, evidently giving into her sympathy and not prying further even though Kol clearly was about to, said after a brief moment of thought, "Never have I ever had sex in a public bathroom."

This time, Kol, Amy, and I all had to finish off our drinks and Davina just shook her head at us disapprovingly. "That's not even uncommon," I protested and Amy nodded vigorously, while Kol just assumed a puppy-dog expression that nobody (and I meant nobody, dammit) could stay angry with.

Our game came to an abrupt end as Hope stirred awake, yawning and rubbing at her big blue eyes. "I'm sleepy, I want Mommy and Daddy," she whined, and Kol reluctantly cut our "day of fun" short.

As I exited the bar with a brighter countenance and renewed sense of mirth, Kol turned to Amy and I and chirped, "We'll meet again soon, young friends. This was fun, and we'll be having more of it. Goodbye for now!" With that, they disappeared down the musically busy road.

I couldn't help but grin away like an idiot and even Amy was happier than usual. "Against my better judgement, I like that fool," I laughed and Amy joined in. "Not romantically, of course, even if Davina wasn't with him. I'm so done with all of that. I need _friends_."

"Davina is my kind of chick. She told me a bit about the Mikaelsons too," she voiced, attempting to brush of the comment because she knew how much it irritated me.

What was I supposed to say? It sparked my curiosity, however much I resented it. It was already occurring to me that the Mikaelsons couldn't be all bad- after all, I became fast friends with a certain Kol Mikaelson. I said as nonchalantly as possible, "Spill."

She leaned against the wall, still managing to look elegant in her hunched fashion. I inwardly scolded myself for my jealousy, but it was difficult to control. It was so _effortless_ for her. I would never be elegant and proper, however much I tried. So, I had given up a long while back.

Amy took a deep, calming breath and began, "I mean, it wasn't much to go by. Apparently, their family has a long history here in New Orleans. Davina also said that other than Kol to steer clear of them. According to her, drama and death seem to follow that family; whatever that means."

 _Huh, weird._ I attempted to brush off her words, but I must have failed miserably with the look that I received from Amy. That only sharpened my interest, and now I was just as invested as her. "I feel like Kol's somebody to steer clear from, too, but he's too fun to stay away from."

Shrugging with a feigned apathy, she pushed herself off the wall and positioned herself directly in front of me. "We don't have to talk about this. It's not like they mean anything to us, we will likely be out of this town the moment Leon comes to rescue us." Sadness and concern clouded over her features. "I'm beginning to worry about him. What do you think is taking him so long?"

I put a hand on her shoulder and smiled at her encouragingly, even though I was secretly hoping that Leon took his sweet damn time. "Leon is a big boy, he can take care of himself. Anyway, even with the events of last night, I like it here. It's also nice not to have every little action controlled by him."

Amy wriggled out from under my touch and glared, as if I had just offended her. She always did like Leon more than me, but surely even _she_ could see how awfully he treated us. "I don't know what you're talking about, Jessie. We'd be nothing without him and you know it. We'd just be the same street kids we were and we would have ended up dying far too young. Live by the streets, die by the streets. Leon saved us."

It wasn't worth arguing this with her, so I just raised my hands in defeat. We would just have to agree to disagree. "Yeah, okay, fine. Can we go back to the motel room now?" The subject of Leon was dropped.

The poor front desk woman almost didn't notice us as we tried to skirt around her all discreetly, James Bond-like. Yeah, _almost_. She didn't look to happy with us, and that was probably because our supposed parents had yet to arrive. Upon sneaking out this morning, we lied and said they were set to arrive today because we thought Leon was coming, but here we were with no imaginary parents.

My eyes got wide and before Amy could take the question I blurted out, "Our mum got hit by a bus!" Amy's buried her face in her hands to cover a laugh, but it was too late now.

"Oh really?" the lady at the desk said questioningly. She stood from her desk now and took a breath, shaking her head disapprovingly at us. "I believe now is time I should call child services."

I was offended. Legitimately offended. She saw through my lie, but if I _hadn't_ been lying, then she was being downright rude. I nudged Amy for help, but that little bitch faked a sob and choked out, "It's too difficult for me to put into words, Jessie. You have to tell her for me . . . it's just too painful," she choked out. _You're going to burn in hell_ , I thought savagely, giving her the death glare of the century.

"I'm going to call child services," the lady sighed, as if it genuinely pained her, reaching for the phone. _Uh uh, no way._ I got us into this, I had to claw our way out; it was my time to shine.

Refusing to blink to hopefully force tears of some sort, I gasped for breath as if the grief was so heavily weighing down on me, this was impossibly difficult for me. " _Excuse_ me? You're calling me a liar? My mum _raised_ me, so you're insulting her memory by saying that she raised a _liar_. We just got back from the hospital!" Jeez, I was sounding so emotional that I was even convincing myself. "My mum _died!_ She died, surrounded by our family- everyone she loved in this world! Do you know what's that _like?_ Watching your own mum die in front of you? I can't even begin to describe it!"

Whoa, man, I actually managed to squeeze a few tears from my eyes. The front desk lady clutched her chest as if I was jabbing her with a knife- which I was, a knife of _grief_ and _emotion_. "So, I'm _sorry_ , but I just can't take this right now! My dad's too devastated to even take care of us right now, so we have to stay here! We're doing him a favor! Excuse me for doing our recently widowed father a _favor!_ "

Amy was staring at me with some semblance of awe, but also a dash of sheer disgust- the degree I was taking this to was highly excessive, even I understood this. Well, I couldn't turn back now! "My mum's gone," I finished tearfully, "and she isn't ever coming back. So, please, _please_ let us stay! We'll pay anyway we can, just . . ." Uh oh, I wanted to avoid any discussion of money, so I concluded my epic saga with, "I can't believe she's _gone!_ "

Tears began to freely flow from the woman's eyes and she blindly groped for her tissue box. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry." The poor woman's words came out in raspy squeaks. "Let me make this up to you, please let me make this up to you. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you girls. I was being a terrible human being. I just didn't know, but now I do. How about this: I will let you young ladies stay charge free and for as long as you need. Also, feel free to have breakfast on me down at the cafe. Again, please accept my apology."

"Bless your soul," I cried, and she engulfed me in a hug. Over her shoulder, I observed Amy silently laughing her arse off and _behind_ her . . . Kol bloody Mikaelson. In a suit. Looking as fine as hell. Snickering openly. _Wait_ , _what? What the hell is he doing here?_

The bastard was smirking at me ever so knowingly, and as we parted our hug he stepped forward. "Oh, pardon me," he simpered and as the front desk lady dried her tears, she turned around to face him. "I assume you've heard the terrible news. I'm their brother." Amy and I arched eyebrows at him; what game was he playing? "Thank you for expressing such kindness. How very compassionate of you. It means a lot to us and our family that even in the darkest of times, in the wake of tragedy, even a mere stranger can make our worlds a little brighter."

Before I could gather my wits about me, he pulled me into a tight embrace and stroked my hair lovingly. "Oh, there there, sister, everything will be okay. I know how much it hurts, but our mother loved you so very much. She would want you to be happy. Shush now, she would not want you to cry." Amy unnecessarily joined the hug, faking a pathetic little sniffle. _These evil demons._

Kol gently told the still crying woman, "I hate you to leave you here, but my little sisters need to be taken care of. This is a very trying time." He rotated himself to have both arms slung around our shoulders. "Come, sisters, let's get to back to your rooms. There there, darlings, you can let it all out in there."

The lady just nodded sadly and Kol lead us to the stairway, not giving us any other option- that man was _strong_. Once to the top of the stairs and out of sight and earshot, Kol and I burst into laughter. We were mean, mean people with rotten souls and black hearts, but we were so _good_ at it! Such talent was hard to come by.

Placing her hands on her him Amy met our laughs with a steady, but playful glare, "You two are horrible people. Really, really awful. I mean, bloody hell, you guys took that too far."

"Oh, but you have to admit that was rich," Kol snickered, attempting to curb his laughter with much difficulty. "And she started it, not I. I merely joined in the festivities." I socked the arsehole on the arm and he didn't even flinch.

"Whatever you have to discuss with us, let's tend to it in our room, so we don't draw more unwanted attention." With that, Amy walked down the hall and into our room, not waiting to see if we would follow her.

We joined up with her, and once we were all situated and whatnot, I quickly demanded, "So, Kol, not that you don't look hot and everything, but why're you in a suit? You cleaned up real fast."

"Why thank you!" His devilish grin was contagious. I barely knew the bloke, but I could already see he and I becoming the best of friends. "I've actually come to personally extend an invitation. A dinner invitation, to be precise. Our house, in an hour- six PM sharp. It's formal attire, just so you know."

My mind went blank at his request. Was this guy serious? Why would they even want us- _me?_ I would want to have a hoity-toity dinner with the people who witnessed my fall from grace? _Uh, no thank you._

"Before you say no," he interrupted my attempt to do exactly that, "I insist. Please, do not leave me alone in a formal dinner with my family, we'll all be at each other's throats and I do not believe I can tolerate Finn's dullness on my own-"

"Too bad, so sad," I cut him off, entirely unsympathetic. "Invite Davina."

"But I've been told to invite you two, so everybody can clear the air!" Kol pouted, and I felt that adorable expression begin to tear down my walls of reluctance like a battering ram. Say no to that face. I dare you. It's bloody impossible.

"I'd be happy to attend, I have a few . . . _questions_ of my own for Klaus," said Amy all cool and professional-like. She would fit right in with those rich snobs- well, if she actually had any considerable wealth to support her elegance. "If you'd wait outside, I'm going to change into something appropriate for the occasion."

"Oh, don't mind me, love!" Kol settled himself comfortably down on my bed. "Go on, I'll just wait here."

I would've called him out on his pervy rudeness, but I just couldn't do it. It was rare for me to genuinely like someone as a person, especially right away, and Kol was one of those people that served as an exception for me.

Amy wasn't too bothered by it either. She instead fished through her duffel bag (how many clothes did she manage to stuff in there?!) and retrieve a silky, strikingly beautiful dress. Leon oh so loved to buy her nice things. "I'll go change in the bathroom, then."

Once she closed the bathroom door behind her, Kol shifted his attention toward me expectantly. "So, aren't you going to get ready? Tick tock, tick tock."

I made a face at that. "I'm not going, Kol, so there's no need for me to change out of my brilliant outfit."

A gasp of outrage escaped his perfectly sculpted lips and he crossed his arms. "Of course you're coming! You're just going to abandon your sister in her time of need?"

"That's exactly what I'm gonna do, you _are_ a clever one." Smiling faintly, my heart not really into my sarcasm, I sat down next to him as his eyebrows linked together in concern.

"If you're still embarrassed about yesterday, don't be!" At least he was being earnest. "Believe me, we've all done far, far worse."

"Um . . . thanks?"

He pondered over it for a moment, possibly coming up with better negotiation tactics. "How about you come, but you can wear that outfit?"

I was impressed and mildly considering it. "Maybe . . ."

"Oooh, this'll be fun," he said ominously, clapping his hands together cheerily. "Yes, let's do it! I can't wait to see Elijah's face and await his inevitable heart attack."

"Deal!" I grinned at him and we shook hands to cement our devious plans.

Amy stepped out from the bathroom, and surprise surprise, radiated such intense beauty and class that simple-minded guys would be blinded by the mere image of her. It was hard to tell whether that was my jealousy or admiration talking. Maybe both.

She wore a tight white strapless dress that came to her thigh. The material was a soft and ordered fabric, adding to the elegance of such a simple dress. She wore it so it wasn't too showy that it took away from her professional demeanor, but it still was attractive on her slim frame.

Amy's hair was done up in a clean, stylish bun and her makeup was considerably more worthy of a formal event. Her lips were a cherry red, pursed like a model, and her eyes a smoky purple. Many would be surprised how the party girl could switch faces in the blink of an eye, I still didn't understand it.

Kol wolf-whistled obnoxiously as she fumbled through her duffel bag and slipped on a pair of five-inch pearly white stilettos. "Shut up, Kol," she said easily.

Amy's eyes scanned my unchanged outfit and she arched her eyebrows. "Um . . . are you really wearing that tonight?"

Kol answered for me while I fumed, "We've made a deal, darling- Jessie will go if she can wear this, and I personally think that's a splendid idea! They'll be so pleased!" The sarcasm in his last comment was nearly palpable, but it only spurred me on.

To please Amy, I fished through my own duffel and found a pinkish lip gloss, applying it hastily and with little care. "There, now nobody can say I didn't try." I was damn proud of myself for that one.

Amy groaned with exasperation, "I could argue with you, but that would be a waste of precious oxygen."

I grinned at her in my endearingly angelic way. "Now you're catching on!"

Amy suppressed a frown. "Bite me," she snapped before turning to Kol. "Let's go before I lose all patience."

Kol stood and with his classic gentlemanly charm, held out his arm to Amy and I for us to take. Amy took it without reservation, looping her small arm delicately in his larger one. I on the other hand politely declined and walked to the door.

Don't look at me like that. I was polite. Well, polite for _me_ , of course. The standards could've been a bit different for others. In fact, it was kind of like converting the Metric system to whatever the hell America used. Still didn't get used to that one.

So, I scoffed in Kol's face (politely!) and stormed past him to the door. Opening it for the two, I remarked, "Ladies first," with a smirk.

Kol simply exited with a laugh, not taking my insult to heart. "For the record, I am every bit a man. Ask Divina, she can attest."

"Aw, compensating for something?" I crooned in a falsely sweet, sugary tone. If I was going to be dragged along I would make it my duty to torture everyone else in the process. It was my God-given right on this Earth. Or so I liked to think.

Kol's (adorable!) smile stayed firmly in place as he escorted Amy and I (sneaking past the front desk lady) to a slick black Mercedes. The man had money, go figure. The suit spoke for itself. Without any more said, he held the door open for the two of us and that was the start of a rather exciting night.

It was dinner with the Mikaelson family. What could possibly go wrong? The answer to that, of course is . . . _everything_.

 **A/N: So, what'd you think? Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let us know! Did you like their interactions with Kol? He's going to be playing a major part in this story. How do you think the Mikaelson dinner party will go? We can promise you one thing. It will be eventful. . . .**


	7. Dinner from Hell

**A/N: That Originals final. That was powerful. Oh, Klaus . . . Anywho, thanks so much for all the support, you guys! We love ya :). We promised you a Mikaelson family dinner, and you're going to get a Mikaelson family dinner. We hope you find it as entertaining to read as it was for us to write! This chapter has lots of Jessie making a fool of herself, so that's fun. It ends on a cliffhanger, so we apologize in advance for that. . . . Anyway, please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :D**

 **Chapter 7: Dinner from Hell**

 **Disclaimer: We aren't Julie Plec, and we do not own the Originals. No Klaus for us. :( However, we do own Amy, Jessica, and Leon, as well as any other OCs we create later on.**

 **Klaus's Perspective**

My research was fruitless, to say the least. All my sources were utterly useless and therefore, dispatched quickly like the wastes of space they were. Hardly any traces of Viktoria could be found, and no connections toward Amy nor Jessica. Perhaps they were not Viktoria's daughters at all, but . . . those green eyes.

"This is a lost cause!" I raged quietly, slamming my glass of bourbon down on the nearest counter. "Why does everyone in this world but me have to be so bloody useless?"

"Thank you for that, brother," came from a sharply-dressed Elijah (what else was new?) as he entered the room, a dry-humored smile playing at his lips. "I can't help but notice your fascination with this. Did you not say only last night that you could not care less?"

"I _don't_ care, Elijah," I growled at him. "I only want to find out who they are so I can _disprove_ their relations to me, that is all!"

His lack of belief in me was not only disheartening, but frankly irritating. He poured himself a drink while scoffing to himself, then said offhandedly toward me, "If that's what you like to tell yourself, Niklaus. You, after all, are the one who came up with the wonderful idea of inviting the girls to dinner tonight. But, of course, you did it out of sheer disinterest."

"Your humor always awakens at the most inopportune times," I deadpanned. "I want to interrogate them, that is all. Kol should be back with them soon- after spending the whole bloody afternoon with them and _my daughter!_ Rebekah just had to skirt on her babysitting duties; I did not want Hope around the two of them."

"Just think, brother, it may have been family bonding. Kol could have been spending time with all three of your daughters." He oh so innocently sipped at his beverage as I glowered viciously at him.

"Ensure that the others are ready," was all I said before storming out of the lounge. Rebekah always took so long to ready herself, it was maddening, and Freya was hardly any better. Even Finn was attending, and he took practically as long as our little sister.

Speak of the devil herself, Rebekah came floating down the stairs with a short black dress that hugged tightly to her like a second skin and flowed out to fall just above her mid thigh. My sister always like to dress to impress, but it was rather annoying that it often brought men panting at her feet. More lovers to murder- more work for me.

"Readying yourself for the club or a dinner with two teenager girls?" I asked "sweetly." Her glare almost brought a smirk to my face. The stress of the day was weighing down on me, though. But, no matter how I hid it, I enjoyed messing with her. She is my little sister, after all. What else are big brothers for if not tease and occasionally dagger their siblings?

"Now now, don't start an argument before dinner," chided Freya in her gentle older sisterly way, directing my attention toward her. She glided down the stairs in a knee-length forest green garment, complimenting her fair skin nicely.

"Why are we hosting this dinner again?" complained Finn as he too joined us downstairs, adorned in a lackluster suit. No, I was not about to compliment my least favorite sibling.

"Klaus properly wants to meet his daughters, remember?" Rebekah was getting me back for my "club" comment, but it still did nothing to swell down my ire. Finn nodded slowly, still rather confused about the whole predicament. And our mother had the nerve to call him intelligent.

"I'm done with you all," I hissed, but had to bite back any further insults as my beautiful littlest wolf skipped down the stairs in a bright pink, frilly dress that Rebekah happily dressed her in. My little girl loved to be a princess- well, she was one. The heir to a king. The _only_ heir.

"Daddy!" she squealed, and in one fluid motion, I swept her up in my arms. I didn't even have to force the smile for her, she brought it out naturally in me. Rebekah and Freya beamed at the child, and even Finn's features were considerably softened. "Daddy, you look pretty!" I grinned at her compliment and tapped her on the nose. She smiled back, her perfect dimples revealing themselves. Hope didn't quite know the difference between "pretty" and "handsome," but no matter, the thought still counted.

"Well, my sweet, you look absolutely stunning tonight," I simpered, joy lightening up my wretched, damned soul. Hope did in fact look stunning; her lush dark hair was brushed to a shine, and diamonds were no match for her glistening eyes.

"Aunty Bekah says I get to see Amy and Jessie today. They are really fun, Daddy. I like playing with them," she cheered. This was not news I wanted to hear.

The smile melted from my face and my stormy countenance returned. "Yes, well . . . you will be seated near me."

Elijah then appeared beside me and mentioned, "I'll set Hope up at the table." She reached up her arms for him to pick her up, and smiling slightly, he obliged, carrying her on his hip to the dining room. My littlest wolf could even bring warmth to noble, rigid Elijah.

The rest of my siblings, besides the one who couldn't grasp the concept of punctuality, followed them into the dining room and since I didn't feel like greeting anybody, I joined them as we all seated ourselves.

I was sitting at the end of the table like the rightful king, Hope was in a booster seat next to me, Finn was at the other end so I didn't have to directly talk to him nearly as much, Freya sat next to him then Rebekah next to Freya, and Elijah next to me on the other side, nearest to Hope.

Since this dinner was going to be a thorough interrogation, I decided it would be best to split the twins up to bring them out of their comfort zones. Thus, they could either take a seat next to Finn, next to Elijah, or next to Rebekah and I- not to mention near Kol.

Footsteps sounded loudly from outside and I was brought out of my scheming and prepared myself for what was to come.

"This place looks different without all the people," wafted over here from who I recognized as Amy.

"It's so nice!" the other twin, Jessica, whined. "I'm not _worthy_ of this mansion; I look like a bloody hobo!" Kol snickered at her remark and even I bit back a smirk.

"Blimey, Jessie, talk louder- I don't think Wisconsin heard you," snapped Amy as their voices grew closer.

"What does Wisconsin have to do with any of this?"

"You know what I mean!"

"So," Kol finally spoke, "are we going to go in there or stand out here for them to eavesdrop? Personally, I'll choose either option."

"Well, Kol, we can't let that nice suit go to waste, now can we?" That was Jessica.

I rolled my eyes, then observed the reactions of my siblings. I was rather displeased. Freya and Rebekah were barely containing laughter, even Elijah and Finn were smirking at the exchange.

The trio suddenly showed themselves at the entrance of the dining room and I became fully aware what Jessica meant by looking like a "hobo." Amy was entirely dressed for the occasion, but Jessica on the other hand was dressed in a chaos of clothing that didn't even cover everything that should've been.

"Amy!" little Hope squealed, rising from her high chair and bounding toward the aforementioned girl.

With ease, Amy smiled and lifted the girl so she was resting comfortably in her arms. "Hello, little one, you are looking very pretty tonight," Amy cooed. Kol and Jessica looked downright offended, and that amused me greatly.

"What am I, chopped liver?" complained Jessica and Kol nodded in vigorous agreement.

"Exactly! Except, I'm her uncle- her _favorite_ uncle!"

"But Uncle Lijah's my favorite-" Hope began to protest, so Kol gently placed the palm of his hand over her mouth.

"I did not hear that." Not a lot of things made Elijah easily smile, but he was outright grinning at this point. Like to me, Hope brought light to his heart.

Jessica then took notice of our admittedly judgmental examinations of her outfit. "Oh, you see, I can explain."

"Oh here we go," both Kol and Amy groaned in unison, and she huffed at both of them individually.

"Gosh, you guys, this is my time to tell a story. When it's your time, I won't interrupt you! Learn some cordiality, won't you?" I raised an eyebrow and awaited her inevitably elaborate excuse, and she did not disappoint. "M'kay, so, er, I . . . got lost in a thrift store?"

Amy stared at the ceiling as if willing a higher power to strike her down, and Kol muffled his snickers. "Okay, no, that won't work. Er . . . Well, you see, I actually wasn't going to come at all because I didn't really want to show my face after last night's catastrophe, but Kol over here at the last minute convinced me to change my mind, but, er, there was no time to put anything on presentable."

I was about to accept the excuse and move on, but she clearly wasn't finished and her stammers were endearing, so I refrained. "Yeah, so, I don't have as many hoity-toity clothes as Amy, like you guys have." Realization dawned on her face as it occurred to her she just insulted us at all. "Oh, _blimey_ , sorry- I didn't mean it like that. I like your hoity-toity clothes!"

I glanced around to see all of my siblings displaying varying stages of a smile, even Finn and Elijah, as young Jessica rapidly dug herself into a hole. "I didn't mean it like that either. Anywho, my best dress was probably the one I wore yesterday, but I'm planning on burning it so that wouldn't do, and I couldn't borrow from Amy 'cause she's taller, and so, er, I wore this. I know this makes me look like one of those wannabe gangbangers, but y'know, I didn't choose the thug life, the thug life chose me!"

Rebekah broke out into giggles, and Kol lost every ounce of control he had left, bursting out into ostentatious laughter. Of course the youngest and most immature of us siblings couldn't maintain their composure. Amy just shut her eyes in despair as her twin so delightfully made a fool of herself.

Jessica's cheeks burned crimson, but no, she still was not in fact done. "Oh Mylanta, I'm quoting Tupac. I'm really fallen far, haven't I? M'kay, has anyone seen my dignity? I think it flew away. I could really use that. Or maybe a nice, homey little cave to crawl into? That would work too." She stared down hard at her bright yellow Converse.

"Perhaps we should begin our dinner?" Elijah lightly suggested, the ghost of a smile still residing on his mouth. "Allow us to introduce ourselves. I am Elijah, you already appear to know Kol and Klaus, my lovely blonde sisters over there are Freya and Rebekah," they respectively gave off a little, friendly wave, "and at the end of the table, is our eldest brother Finn. Now, please, seat yourselves."

Kol slung his arm around a now ashamed Jessica's shoulders, and still chuckling, led her over to the two empty seats next to Elijah. "Here, darling, sit next to me. I'll ensure you won't make a fool of yourself- more so than you already have!" She glared at him reproachfully.

Kol took the seat nearest to Finn, perhaps to spare her from his dominating judgment and overall dullness, so she resided between Kol and Elijah. _Should be interesting,_ I thought offhandedly.

As Amy positioned Hope back into her high chair, she took the last empty seat besides Rebekah, Hope, and I. She evenly smoothed her napkin cloth over her lap before snarking over to her twin, "You may need your foot surgically removed from her mouth."

Kol chortled into his alcohol and Jessica forced a smile. "I can think of another place I can put it," she hissed threateningly as a response, and Elijah took that as an opportunity to call for our food before the sisters' spat could worsen. Lamb chops and appetizers were given out by our servers, and the dinner began.

The tension at least somewhat lightened once the sisters' quarrel ended. The small talk was alive amongst us, and I merely sat and observed, waiting for the right opportunity to begin my interrogation.

It did not escape my attention that Amy immediately clicked with Elijah. What he meant as a polite question about her general interests, sparked a lengthy and deep conversation on the history and influence of all different kinds of music.

"Classical music will forever remain one of the best artistic outlets of human emotion," Elijah expressed, his hands clasped together as he almost dared her to disagree. "The most eloquent and complicated pieces are always found in the classical genre."

"I'm not exactly disagreeing with you, Elijah," Amy conceded, taking a sip of her ice water and shifting around her lamb chops around on her plate as she struggled to perfectly enunciate her rebuttal. "But you can't negate the new era jazz music awakened. You must at least appreciate the complexity of it, since you live in New Orleans after all."

"I agree with the young one," piped up Rebekah, grinning at the girl sitting next to her and receiving a grateful smile in return. "Jazz is so progressive, it always has been."

"You can't turn down to a good modern dance song," Freya argued, and following Elijah's derisive look, she added, "well, at least I can't."

"Rock and roll, baby," Jessica insisted, breaking from her animated conversation with Kol. "All the way." Kol playfully nudged her in the side, and she returned to their quick back-and-forth. Their conversation consisted of non-stop banter, each releasing quips and mild insults on the other. It was a little unnerving how well the two of them appeared to get along. Already, my little brother was corrupting the child.

"I agree with Elijah," murmured Finn, his first spoken words of the dinner, and Elijah flourished his hand and graciously acknowledged him with,

"Thank you, brother, it's nice to see some agreement on my side, as well as some good taste." The corners of Finn's mouth curled up, probably because he was at the very least included.

"You can't just ignore what jazz has to offer," Amy stressed, once again drawing Elijah's attention back to herself. "Sure, classical music has its perks and I'm very much a fan as well as play some piano myself, but my heart lies with jazz. In my opinion, nothing quite captures the soul like it. And the creativity is something else entirely. Classical music, of course, can be very complicated and inventive, but a lot of jazz is based on improvisation and thus requires a certain spontaneousness. The music feels so _alive_."

As Elijah absorbed her argument and processed his next move, Jessica again snuck back into the conversation. "You want music that's alive? I raise you Led Zeppelin. _Stairway_ _to_ _Heaven_? Best song ever, hands down. Let's not forget about Queen. _Bohemian_ _Rhapsody_ is a close second. Don't even _try_ to deny this."

Her Queen T-shirt (it was hardly a T-shirt anymore with the sleeves and midriff cut off) spoke for itself. I decided to use this as an opportunity to enter the conversation. "That's a bold statement you have there, love, if not entirely ungrounded." I myself was a fan of the opera, so Elijah's musical tastes virtually coincided with mine.

From what I had seen so far, Jessica was an awkward speaker and revealed whatever was on her mind without quite thinking it through, but she carried a certain friendliness, warmth, and charisma to her that made it quite difficult to dislike her. With the events of last night, her actions almost screamed for some sort of disownment, but her personality easily overshadowed her previous mistakes.

Now, Amy was a different case. Both girls were admittedly quick-witted and sharp-tongued, but Amy carried herself more properly, thus allowing her to relate with Elijah more easily than her sister. Amy was more reserved, patient, eloquent, but she still had just as much to say as her twin. It just became evident that she knew when and when _not_ to express her thoughts, and Jessica did not have this filter.

Bringing me back to the real world, Jessica effortlessly weaved me into the conversation, which however unnecessary, I found myself appreciating. "Ungrounded?" There was a clear insulted note in her tone. "First off, lemme just say that _Queen_ is one of the best bands ever and _Bohemian Rhapsody_ is one of the best songs ever, and you can do absolutely nothing to change my mind." Well, at least she was being honest about her obstinance.

She, of course, was not finished. "Now, let's talk about the best _song_ ever. _Stairway_ _to_ _Heaven_? Ungrounded? Well, excuse me Mister Mikaelson man, it's hardly ungrounded. The glorious and _haunting_ melody aside, have you _heard_ those lyrics? They're like nothing else. Still, to this day, people don't even completely understand them. I've never heard a song capture the embodiment of body, mind, and soul quite like it."

When all attention shifted over to her in genuine surprise, she declared, "Yeah, that's right, I can spout pretentious Freudian mumbo jumbo, too!" I smirked at her last comment; her humor was rather strange, but it was not unwelcome nonetheless. Kol discreetly high-fived her under the table.

"Can you honestly place these songs, however memorable, over the likes Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach?" asked Elijah of her doubtfully. It was comical to me how very evidently this was eating at his insides.

"In my heart of hearts . . . yes, easily, without a doubt, Elijah, thank you for asking," she replied smugly. Elijah's sheer aghast expression was priceless and Kol laughed openly in his face.

"You should see your face," he giggled, but Elijah was none too amused by his little brother's antics. My elder brother's facial features had some sort of unspoken "Children these days have no taste" written all over it.

"I like Disney," my littlest wolf stated after a short bout of trepidation, perhaps feeling a little left out, and Amy leaned over to high-five her.

"Good taste! So do I, little one, so do I," Amy quipped, smiling at my daughter. It was then when I noticed that her smile never met her eyes and even in watching her sister he hadn't seen either one with the spark of life that their words gave indication to. Both girls were excellent at their pretenses, but there was clearly more than that met the eye.

"What is Disney?" Finn asked, causing me to roll my eyes. _Oh here we go_. He didn't care, obviously, he merely wanted to aggravate us over his lack of knowledge for the times. Another jab at me for keeping him in a coffin for nine hundred years. He needed to let that go, I did allow him to live in the compound, after all.

Jessica was downright horrified, and I hid a smile behind my bourbon, awaiting her sure to be interestingly-worded tirade. "How do you not know what Disney is?! Disney paves the way for every child's life, and it turns them into little materialistic demons who only want more toys, candy, and forces them to worship a bear who talks, doesn't wear pants, and has an extreme honey fetish!"

Finn seemed to strongly regret bringing up the question. Her description made me rethink what I was allowing my child to view, as well. Damn Kol for buying a television without my permission, as well as something called _Netflix._ He was almost addicted to modern technology.

Kol turned to Jessica, thoroughly amused, and chided, "Oh lovely friend, don't spite him so. My dear brother still remains detached from society and rather put out after his nine hundred year vacation in a box," Kol laughed, not realizing his misstep of words. Oh who I was kidding? He knew _exactly_ what he had just said; he lived for stirring trouble. Finn glowered at him menacingly, just like the rest of our siblings and I.

Well, now the room was so tense it could've been sliced open with one of my treasured daggers. Jessie choked on the shot of bourbon that she had just stolen and drank from Kol's glass. He scowled at her and snatched the drink away; he was very possessive about his alcohol. Coughing, she demanded, "That's a joke, right? Nine hundred years in a box is some euphemism for hell, right? And by hell . . . you mean Cardiff?"

Amy's composure crumbled into dust and she cackled at the last bit; they were Londoners through and through. She good-naturedly fired at Finn, "Oh good God, you've gone native?" Jessie entirely lost it at that point, burying her face in her hands to attempt to muffle her laughter. Luckily, neither girl took Kol's remark in a serious fashion.

Glaring daggers at Kol, I decided to take the question before he could dig our grave any deeper, "Yes, yes it was, sweetheart. Please excuse my brother, he has a twisted sense of humor." That much was _entirely_ true.

"Kol was really funny today," Hope said happily- I'd nearly forgotten she was there. "So were Amy and Jessie!" The trio's "deer-in-the-headlights" expressions did not go unnoticed by me.

"You were sleeping most of the time, darling." Kol's voice was tight and his expression a warning that Hope did not decipher correctly, since it wasn't like anybody dared to discipline her for fear of my wrath.

"I was playing pretend!" she giggled, profoundly proud of herself for her deviousness. She definitely inherited that from me. "I wanted to hear what you and Divi and Amy and Jessie were sayin'!"

"Oh dear God," Amy whimpered, and my levels of suspicion skyrocketed through the roof. What did these hooligans force my daughter to overhear? If they traumatized or tainted her innocence in anyway, I would have their heads above my fireplace, and Kol would be feeling the displeasure of my dagger.

"Daddy?" Hope caught my attention and stared up at me with enormous, twinkling blue eyes. "What does it mean to have sex on a rooftop?"

My breath escaped me as I sat shocked by her words. _Dammit, Kol!_ I would have ripped his heart out right here and danced upon it, if not for the rather annoying fact he wouldn't die.

Rebekah and Freya both choked on their wine glasses, Elijah stiffened and dropped his fork upon the his place, and Finn was far too amused than I would like, considering there was a very, very, _very_ slim possibility they could be my daughters. Now was _not_ the time for him to gain a sense of humor.

The teenage girls and Kol sat as still as statues with wide, unblinking eyes. Amy looked the least worried, though, which told me she wasn't the guilty party, but that made no difference to me.

"Daddy," Hope endeared to me, now even more curious because of everyone's reactions. "What is it?"

"Yes, Daddy, what is it?" Kol snorted, his poor timing giving me even more reason to tear his head from his shoulders. In that moment, I was sure he would not survive this night- he was sure to be in a coffin for the next century or so. That would be payment enough for his wrongdoings.

Kol nudged Jessica teasingly, and blood rushed to her cheeks and burned them bright crimson. "It was _one_ time!" she defended herself, hiding her face in her hands. "God, I will never be able to live this down."

"It was _seventeen_ times!" Kol added, and everybody glared at him with a startling ferocity. His smile faded away. "Oh, so we aren't counting?"

"Kol, I recommend if you prefer breathing, brother, you will shut up. It's just a thought," Rebekah said quickly and effortlessly. She, like the rest of my family, could tell I was ready to snap.

Jessica spoke up before anyone could say more, "Okay, okay, a little much there. She would learn it sooner or later. It isn't that big of a deal. No need for murder."

"Well then, could you please enlighten me on why my daughter would ask such a question?" I asked. My tone was like a knife slicing through the room.

"Well . . . Kol, why don't you take this one?" Jessica evaded carefully, drawing eyes to my brother, who had the intelligence to look at least slightly frightened.

"Well, you see, dearest brother, we were playing a certain game the youth these days play called _Never Have I Ever._ It is a drinking game where someone mentions an act they have never done, and if anyone has done it, then they take a drink. It's all good fun," Kol rambled, perhaps attempting to dissuade me from my thoughts of how many ways I could kill him.

"And how does this answer my question?"

"Niklaus, perhaps this isn't the best time for this," Elijah told me pointedly. He was right. No more charades, no more distractions. This conversation would end . . . for now.

Amy and Jessica looked considerably unnerved as I came back downstairs from putting my angelic daughter to bed. The jovial mood had dissipated into nothingness, and even though the unmistakable stench of fear wafted from Jessica, she still bravely said, "Look, why're we here? All I know is you want something from us, Amy wants information from _you_ , and we're at some sort of stalemate. There has to be a damn good reason you invited us here for dinner after last night."

Smart girl, she was sharper than she appeared. I decided to cut right to the chase, gripping my end of the table as I growled matter-of-factly, "Why don't you meet me halfway, witch?"

"Mate, did you seriously call me a witch? Call me a bitch, like any _normal_ person would!" I rolled my eyes at Jessica's feigned ignorance. Of _course_ she knew what I was accusing her of, but she was playing dumb.

"Nik shouldn't insult you at all," Rebekah told the girl with her typical "women empowerment" notion. It was true, though, I was not one to belittle undeserving women in such a manner by calling her a bitch. I had _some_ class, after all.

So, Jessica took it as an insult, but Amy stood up from her seat with a huff. "For the last goddamn time, Klaus, we aren't witches. I don't know why you keep stumbling to that conclusion, but witches _aren't real_."

"Lies, bloody lies!" I snarled at her, and she flinched away from me. "You're also a werewolf, don't think I didn't notice you heal from your vampire bite!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" arrived from Jessica, who stumbled away from the table, dodging Kol's grasp. "What the hell is going on? First you think we're Hermione Granger, then Remus Lupin? And how did a bloody vampire get thrown into the equation? Mate, you've had too much to drink, so stay away from the happy juice." _Impertinent child_ _. . ._

"Please Klaus, calm down and talk like a sane person because at this point, Jessie is right. You sound bloody insane," Amy said, still attempting to hold onto her steady persona. She was doing a good job at pretending to be calm on the outside, but I could hear her heart race as she was overcome with fear I would find out their secret.

"Everyone, let us take a step back and depart from this path of destruction before we are too far gone," Elijah interjected as calmly and evenly as usual, rising from his seat. Amy sat down, though stiffly, leaving only Elijah, Kol, Jessica, and I on our feet. "Niklaus, restrain yourself." As if _I_ was the one out of control in this scenario.

"Brother, this is not your fight," I warned him without looking at him, my wolf coming out through my eyes. I was not pleased with the constant avoidance and I had had enough of this madness. "You treacherous _children_. You come into my home and expect me to allow such deceitfulness. I will not have it."

Jessica openly snorted, like my words _amused_ her. Kol was positioned protectively in front of the mannerless girl, evidently hellbent on guarding his new little toy from my potential rage.

Sitting up with a start, Amy's chair fell behind her with a loud bang. She was still calm, but dangerously so; now, she was on a warpath. "Excuse me, sir, last time I checked it was _you_ who invited _us_ here. So, maybe, you should check _yourself._ We accepted your invitation out of respect, then you wrongfully accuse us of misdeeds that are not only ridiculous but _delusional_. Now, sir, you tell me who needs to check themselves."

My siblings watched our exchange warily, waiting for the moment where I would physically call her on her bluff. They did not have to wait long.

I smiled at her wickedly, and allowed my eyes to glint amber, and black veins to protrude from my face. Her cocky, overconfident smile melted away and she scrambled to get away from me. "Is that so, love?" I lunged forward and sank my teeth into her neck, awaiting her reaction.

"Niklaus!" Elijah and Finn shouted just as Rebekah, Kol, and Freya yelped, "Nik!" I ignored them, as per usual, and she struggled beneath my jaws. Her blood wasn't laced with werewolf venom, so she couldn't have been an activated werewolf. No, no, it wasn't possible. . . .

"Get the fuck off her, you Jeffrey Dahmer freak!" Jessica screamed somewhere in my peripheral vision. As I swallowed several sweet mouthfuls of her deliciously salty blood, hands of who I guessed were Elijah and Rebekah grabbed the back of my jacket and ripped me off the young girl, who crumpled to the ground in a bloody heap.

Suddenly, a blinding headache forced me to my knees. I couldn't think, I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe- the pain overwhelmed me. It was like nothing I'd ever felt- except it did resemble the agony of Papa Tunde's blade. I could hardly find the energy in me to scream, but _everything_ in me was roaring from the excruciating pain.

It was Jessica. If I'd had any doubt whatsoever she was a witch, then I didn't now. She was a witch all right- a damned powerful one. A witch who would be dead in a second once the agony ceased enough for me to function.

"Jessie, that's enough, darling," I vaguely heard Kol coax Jessica, but the pain didn't stop. "I won't let him hurt you, but you ought to let him go. You don't want him vomiting on the floor or anything, it might stain."

"Well, gee Kol, I'm so damn sorry about your floors, considering Amy's bleeding on them anyway, but there's not exactly an off-switch for this kind of thing! I don't know how to stop it. He deserves it, anyway!"

"Just relax," Freya crooned to her. "Clear your mind, lower your hands. Capture tranquility." The gruesome headache began to ease off. "That's it, you're doing it."

Once I was clear-headed enough, I made a beeline straight for Jessica, but Kol intercepted me and something sharp stabbed through my neck. It was a . . . fork. I looked behind me in shock to see Amy had stuck a fork into the back of my neck. I pulled it out carelessly.

"Did you just-" Jessica began, but Amy wasn't having any of it.

"Doesn't matter," replied Amy brusquely, hurrying around the table to clutch her hand and begin to pull her to the dining room entrance. "We're getting the bloody hell out of this looney bin."

"Not so fast." I blurred in front of them, barring their exit out, prepared to attack again for Jessica's little witch headache she caused me and the small holes in my neck. Kol sped between the two of us, he too revealing his true vampire face.

"Bugger off, Nik," he rumbled, and I tossed him to the side like a rag doll, since I was still furious with him for nearly warping my angelic daughter. He jumped forward and slammed me into the wall, his hand pressing down firmly against my throat. "What will our guests think, brother?" he hissed as I threw him off.

The twins were positively stunned, to say the least, and Rebekah darted forward to presumably comfort them. "There there, children, I know it's a lot to take in-"

"A lot to take in? This is batshit crazy!" Jessica insisted while Elijah played his big brother card by separating Kol and I.

"Niklaus, Kol, stop this behavior at once," he ordered through gritted teeth. "You've turned this evening into an utter disaster." _Thank you, brother, for pointing out the obvious_.

And of course, Jessica still wasn't done. She screeched at Rebekah, "Klaus over here is a cannibalistic psycho, you're all . . . all _impossible!_ "

"We're vampires, love," Rebekah told them with an unmistakable kindness. "Now was not the way for you to find out, but . . ."

"I'm a witch, like you two," Freya said equally benevolently from the other side of our younger sister, but that wasn't what either of them wanted to hear. The blonde teenagers blew a gasket, so to speak.

"WE. ARE. NOT. WITCHES!" they bellowed in unison as loudly as their young lungs would allow, and all china leaped off of the table and flew into the nearest walls, shattering into thousands of jagged pieces. Yes, that _definitely_ proved they weren't witches.

"Dear girls, calm yourselves," Rebekah crooned, cupping each of their faces in a very motherly gesture. "I assure you, I will not let him hurt you. Here, drink this." She bit her wrist and shoved it towards Amy's face, but she dodged it. The bite was slowly healing on its own anyway.

"Fat load of good you did when he sank his goddamn teeth into my neck!" Amy hissed back, and a distinguishable look of hurt flared up in my younger sister's eyes. She was only trying to help, perhaps repair some of the damage I wrecked upon the evening.

"Niklaus, you ought to tell them the truth," came Finn's smarmy voice. "Tell them why you _really_ invited them . . . unless you're afraid, brother?"

I was about ready to speed over to him and knock some sense into the idiot, but that was when Kol just had to blurt out, "Oh, Nik, if you don't tell them, I will! Amy, Jessie, he doesn't have a very socially acceptable way of showing it, but he's under the impression that he's your father."

 **A/N: What'd you guys think?! Like it, love it, hate it? How are Amy and Jessie going to react to this bombshell of information? Let us know! :)**


	8. World off Its Axis

**A/N: Wow, it's been a while. Sorry about that! And we're also sorry for leaving off on a cliffhanger . . . but not really sorry, you know? We just can't help it. This chapter will add some much-needed explanation and all that, as well as infinitely more drama, because if you're near the Mikaelsons, there's drama. Especially Klaus. Anyway, thanks so much for all the amazing support, and we love you all. Please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :D**

 **Chapter 8: World off Its Axis**

 **Disclaimer: We aren't Julie Plec, and we do not own the Originals. No Klaus for us. :( However, we do own Amy, Jessica, and Leon, as well as any other OCs we create later on.**

 **Amy's Perspective**

That bastard bit me! Like, legitimately bit me! Not in a fun, kinky way, a there-are-bloody-teeth-marks-on-my-neck sort of style. And not just that, but he was actually sucking at my blood.

Oh, and _now_ , Kol, who I thought was kind of a goof in the first place, just insinuated that the psychotic cannibal was our father. That just made _everything_ better . . . right? Right?! And wait . . . WHAT?!

Since my brain had virtually shut down and I couldn't remember how to speak, I had to rely on Jessie to say the obvious. "Oh hell no, Kol. He doesn't just get to try and eat my sister and try and kill me, for you to attempt to distract us by spouting rubbish like that. It doesn't work like that, and we're leaving."

"It's true," Finn spoke up for like the second or third time this evening. Seriously, it seemed like he hated the lot of them just as much us now. "Niklaus thinks he may be your father. He just, as usual, cannot control his bastardly urges." He sneered at his younger brother. If bastardly urges equated to biting people in the neck, I did not want anything to do with these freaks.

"I'm so done with you freaks," I hissed. All pretenses of politeness were gone now that Klaus almost _murdered_ me. I stepped forward, but yet again, Klaus stepped in front of me. "Move. Out. Of. My. Way!" I probably didn't do a good job convincing him that we weren't witches, because with an angry flick of my hand, he flew about twenty feet backwards and crashed into the fountain in the middle of the courtyard. _Probably shouldn't have done that . . . I didn't even know I_ could _do that._

"So much for not being a witch, eh?" Kol teased from behind me, but I didn't want anything to do with him either. It was Jessie that liked him more in the first place, anyway. I saw his creepy vein-y face all right, and his red eyes, and fangs!

As soon as Jessie and I entered the courtyard, making a hasty path for the door, a sopping wet Klaus sped towards us _yet again_ , but this time, it was Elijah who intercepted him. "Brother, the disrespectful little imp threw me into the fountain!" He almost sounded like he was whining about it, like he was tattling on us. "Allow me to deliver my retribution."

"Then I'll just toss you into the fountain again," I warned with a flippant air about me, and Elijah turned around only to shoot me a warning look. Oh hell no. I didn't need this. "What? I will." Klaus's eyes flashed amber.

"I think we ought to all calm ourselves and have a frank discussion about this," Elijah placated all of us. He was just as delusional as the rest of them if he thought that would work. Still, it was clear to me how much they needed him. Who else would keep Klaus in line? Well, he couldn't quite do that, but at least he tried.

"I think we're _waaaaay_ past that point," Jessie just about screeched. _Nail, meet hammer._ "Frank discussion? Creepy blond dude right here just tried to _eat_ my sister!"

"Is your mother Viktoria Kaslova?" Klaus said in a burst of randomness, and I narrowed my eyes at him. What did this have to do with anything? And how did he know her name? If this was his attempt at making amends, then he was doing a piss-poor job.

"Um, I think so. _Why?_ " His face must've paled a good three shades after I responded to him.

"What do you mean you _think_ so?" Kol asked from somewhere behind us. This was a sore subject for us, and neither Jessie nor I felt like delving into it.

"That doesn't matter," I said curtly. I was _surrounded_ by these maniacs, and a sense of claustrophobia began to creep its way into me. "Bye bye now." Grabbing Jessie by the arm, I hauled her to the doorway, but of course, it couldn't be that easy. Klaus _really_ needed to learn to take a hint. He blocked us. We didn't want to be in his company anymore, however _welcoming!_

"How old are you two?"

"We turned fifteen last month, in May," Jessie groaned, frustrated that we were held back for the thousandth time this evening. Still, it was easier to simply answer his questions, however ridiculous. Maybe he'd let us go if we appeased his stupidity. "What does this have to do with anything? I know we're fantastic and all, but do we really interest you _this_ much?"

"We _are_ fantastic," I said with a slight pout, and Kol chuckled, despite the severity of the situation.

"Allow me to cut to the chase," Elijah cut in eloquently, brushing off the nonexistent lint off the sleeves of his suit. "Of what certainty is Viktoria Kaslova your mother? Did she not raise you?"

See, _this_ is what I didn't want to talk about. _This_. The whole issue of Viktoria Kaslova and whether or not she raised us. Because, no, she _did_ not raise us. We never met the damn woman. Not once. We didn't even have a picture of her. She might've been our mother, but not _actually_. Not our real mother. We never had a real mother, or a real father, for that matter. And no, _no no_ , Klaus was not our newfound father. He was psychotic, yes, but our father? Nope.

"It's none of your business!" Jessie shouted at him, but he didn't even flinch a millimeter. Jessie was worse at controlling her emotions that me, so it made sense that she'd flip a switch over this. A shiny gleam of tears coated her eyes, and I sighed. What a disaster of an evening. "Yeah, we were told she was our mother. And yeah, we have her stupid Russian last name. But no, she didn't raise us. So, is that what you wanted to hear? She didn't raise us! We never even _met_ her!"

She looked like she was about to cry, so Rebekah appeared out of nowhere and wrapped her arm around her skinny shoulders. Out of all the Mikaelsons, Rebekah seemed like the least threatening at this point. There was a sort of "girl power" vibe coming from her, even if she called herself a "vampire." Plus, she didn't look too much older than us. Late teens at the most.

At least _some_ of the anger ebbed from Klaus's features. Perhaps a little sympathy was thrown in there? A deadbeat mom story did tend to garner that sort of attention. "Then who, pray tell, _raised_ you?"

Jessie wasn't stable enough to respond, so I bottled up my own emotions and said dully, "Nobody. Nobody raised us. We grew up in the system, bounced around. Didn't stick with anybody for too long."

It was painfully silent, all eyes downcast, even Klaus's, until something pricked my finger. "Ow! What the bloody hell was that for?" It was Freya. She pricked my finger with a needle, and captured the blood into a vial, then before Jessie could protest, did the same to her in a separate vial.

"Freya!" Rebekah hissed as Jessie stuck her her finger into her mouth, sucking away the pain. "The young girl is clearly upset, and then you go and jab her with a needle?"

Freya ignored her. "Nik, I'm going to need your blood, too. We're dancing around the issue. I'm going to do a magical paternity test, and settle this."

"Finally, someone talking some sense!" Finn piped up from besides Freya, and I debated wiping off my bloody finger on his clothes, since he was taking her side. He chose to speak at the _worst_ moments.

"Excellent plan. Everyone, to the sitting room, if you so please." For whatever reason, mostly curiosity, we _did_ end up following Elijah and the others. We could handle Klaus if he attacked again. Just ask the cracked fountain.

"What do you mean by _magical_ paternity test?" I asked as she mixed the blood into a chiseled bowl of some sort.

"I don't get the point of this." Jessie, when she was saddened, angered easily and hotly. If you hadn't already noticed, of course. "We're all jumping to conclusions. So what, my "mother,"" she put air-quotes around the word, "had sex with you?" she addressed to Klaus. "She was probably a prostitute." _She very well could be right._ _It's not like we know for sure._

"I can assure you, she was not," Klaus fired back too aggressively for my tastes. What, like he was _above_ using a prostitute? Biting a teenage girl was fine, sure, but not paid sex? His priorities baffled me. "Believe me, I do not want this either. I have one daughter, and that's it."

"Then why don't you let us leave?" she just about screamed at him, and I found myself shrinking into my dress. Great, another fight. "Why are we doing this? You don't want us as daughters, and we don't want you as a father! Let us leave, and neither us will look back. It'll be easier for all of us that way." She was seconds away from bursting into tears, and Rebekah squeezed her tighter around the shoulders. _Thank God for Rebekah._

"Speak for yourself." I stood up to confront my irate twin, and she turned her agitated stance towards me. "I don't prefer to live my life with a series of "what if's," thank you very much." It was true. I needed to know if he was my father or not, regardless whether the answer suited me or not. I'd deal with the ramifications after, but I had to know the truth.

I probably shouldn't have spoken at all, because all I did was push her over the edge. She shrugged out of Rebekah's hold and approached me threateningly. It wasn't like she would ever _hurt_ me, though. She was all bark and hardly any bite. "Why're we all assuming just because our so-called mother possibly warmed Klaus's bed for a few nights, we're his? She could've been having sex with three other men! Hell, she could've been fucking the entire _city!_ "

My stomach churned at how cruelly she spoke of our mother. It was understandable, yes, and well-deserved, but it also showed how poorly we were raised and the extent of our resentment. I didn't want the Mikaelsons to look down upon us because of my sister's loose tongue. Ugh, I wished I didn't have to care what others thought of us. Or especially what others thought of _her_.

But, alas, evidently they did look down on her. "Watch your language," was all Elijah said, but it came across as a mild threat, and he was using his index finger as his chastening weapon. "You are only a child, and such vulgar words should not be exiting your mouth."

Well, this sure got awkward quickly. Kol, of course, was biting back a smile, Rebekah looked as if she were taking pity on my twin, Klaus's eyebrows shot through the roof as he awaited Jessie's reaction, Finn didn't care in the slightest, and Freya was busy working with the blood anyway. And Jessie, Jessie was gaping as if mulling over the fact that he dared scold her.

There was no way she would go along with this quietly. No way she would sit her arse down, shut her mouth, and obey anyone in this godforsaken world. We weren't raised "correctly," so to speak.

And . . . I was right. Very, very right. A little too right, if you ask me. It's hard to be right all the time. A little exhausting. I didn't know exactly how _much_ Jessie would lose it, though. The answer to that? All the way.

" _Fuck_ _you,_ Elijah, and your shitty music taste!" He blinked once in shock, and I half-expected him to smack her a good one. The music insult was a low blow, and entirely unwarranted. "This is all utter bollocks!" she screeched, and Rebekah edged away from her, rubbing her poor eardrums. Jessie just had to shred into pieces what was left of the dinner- actually, no, Klaus ruined it after _biting my neck!_ "We're all acting like a bunch of bloody idiots because my "mother" is a slutty, STD-ridden, commitment-phobic whorebag who _abandoned_ us after presumably fucking an entire city!" I lowered my eyes to the ground, trying to blink away the sudden burning sensation.

Jessie wasn't done, of course. She never knew when to cut her losses. "Why am I here? Oh, good question, me! Fuck everything! See you never, you cannibalistic arseholes!" She hesitated, chewing over her words for a moment. "Actually, no, I like Kol and Rebekah, but everyone else can go jump under a bus!" And with that, my hotheaded twin stormed out of the room. Kol whistled lowly after her, highly impressed.

Everyone was speechless, including me. Klaus looked like he wanted to go find her, and bash her brains in, and a part of me probably would've given him a hand. Her filter was so nonexistent, it embarrassed me to _no_ end.

"Can I go and issue a well-deserved punishment now?" Klaus begged Elijah. _Um, no._ Even if my sister was acting like a bitch, that didn't mean I would allow Klaus to actually hurt her.

Before Elijah could answer him, even though I was almost positive he would've declined, I warned Klaus, "If you so much as lay a finger on her, I'll toss you off the balcony!"

He was standing in front of me in the blink of an eye. "You _dare_ threaten me in my own home, after your sister disrespected us in such a manner? If your sister desires to speak in such a vile manner, then perhaps she should have her wicked tongue _ripped_ from her mouth!"

"Nik, she's just a young girl!" Rebekah didn't look much like an adult when she said that, but I appreciated the defense. "She's upset, angry, and troubled. Surely _you_ can relate."

"And you _all_ give me grief about it!" He gestured wildly to his siblings. "Are you saying that the girl _shouldn't_ be punished for her insults and curses? She's just a child, as you say. Should she not be punished as a child would?" How was having one's tongue ripped out a child's punishment? This bloke's logic . . .

"Niklaus, that's enough," Elijah sighed, his entire stance etched with tiredness. The nonstop shit this guy must've had to put up with . . . "No, I do not approve of her vile language, but now is not the time to address this. You attacked her sister, she is angry. We have forced them to stay here against their will, she is angrier. We have talked of her mother in ways that have clearly upset her, considering the lack of their relationship, and thus, she's beyond angry. I don't approve of her insults, but I understand them, and I advise that you do as well."

"Well-said, Elijah!" Kol crowed. "Show Nik who's boss!" His timing was impeccable.

"Do silence yourself, brother," Elijah snapped, and his little brother (I presumed, I mean, come on) sulked.

I should've dropped it. I really, really should've. But my sister's honor was at stake! Not that she had much left, but still, I had to defend the remains of it. "Yeah, Klaus, just leave my sister alone, you hear? You're the one that bloody _bit_ me! What are you, then? A vampire? Is that what you called yourself? Then, let's hypothetically say you're my father. Wouldn't I be a vampire? But vampires are supposed to be dead, or _undead,_ so that doesn't make any sense. And you said I'm a witch. Which is it, Klaus?"

He opened his mouth and closed it, choosing his words carefully. That's when Finn asked Freya, "Have you finished the spell, dear sister? Tensions are rising."

Understatement of the year. I just wanted proof that Klaus the maniac wasn't my father, so I could go after my sister and eventually back to Leon. I was quite done with the Mikaelsons by now.

Freya's hands were trembling slightly. "Yes, brother, I finished the spell."

"And?" Elijah, Rebekah, and Finn prompted her at the same time. Kol bounced impatiently in place.

She shakily brushed a blonde lock from her ashy forehead. "I, um . . ."

"Speak, sister," Klaus said with a creepy iciness. "Inform us already that these disrespectful imps are not my spawn, so we can part ways and carry on!" Freya didn't respond, so he reiterated harshly, "Speak!"

When she looked up, I knew. Oh, I _knew_. The sunken, frightened look in her eyes. Eyes that saw the terrifying truth. My hand found its way to my mouth, and I closed my eyes, willing everything away. _No, no, no. Please, God, if you're out there, don't do this to me. Don't damn me to this fate. Please, if you care about me at all. Don't let Niklaus Mikaelson be my father._

This wasn't happening. We were still in New York with Leon. I was dreaming, dreaming so merrily of the party the night before, the pretty boy in bed besides me after a night of wonders. This was all, all a dream . . . But I wasn't waking up. For the love of everything, _I wasn't waking up_.

"I'm sorry, Nik." Her voice came out a raspy whisper. "I can't tell you they aren't your daughters, because they are. It's the truth."

The entire world came crashing down around me. Everything in me screamed, raged at Freya for unleashing a whole new batch of demons. I stumbled backwards. Everyone but Klaus was looking at me, mouths agape. Words even evaded the motormouth Kol.

"Lies!" Klaus roared, throwing the nearest piece of furniture across the room. It shattered into a million pieces, and I jumped. "Bloody lies! Do the spell again, sister, and this time, _do it right!_ "

Finn moved in front of Freya protectively, but she stood her ground. "I could do it a thousand more times, Nik, and I would have the same results! Just because you don't like the results, that doesn't make them untrue. You are their father, and they are your daughters."

Klaus might as well have been a statue after that, but my legs were discovering a whole new rejuvenating strength. Fight or flight; hell yeah, I was going to run. I was going to run far, far away from this madness.

"No, no," I murmured into my clasped hands as I brought them to my face again. "This can't be . . ." I escaped from the room; I had to find Jessie.

Elijah blurred in front of me, but blinking tears out of my eyes, I pleaded, "Please, just let me go. Let me go. I have to find my sister, okay? I have to. _Please_ , Elijah. I-I-" My defenses broke, and I forced out dry sobs. "Please, just let me go. I-I c-can't handle this right now. K-Kol knows where we're staying, if you're worried about that. _Please, Elijah_."

His features were wrought with sympathy, and he tenderly wiped away a single tear that fell. I found myself leaning into his touch. He was my uncle, I realized, if Klaus was my father. If one good thing came out of this chaos, then it had to be him. "I'm sorry, little one, if this is not what you wanted to hear. Go, find your sister. I will handle Niklaus."

Nodding, I hurried to the front door, drying the rest of my tears as I went. "Amy, wait." I turned around, bracing myself for what Elijah had to say. "I must warn you, that while you might want all of this to be over, it hasn't even begun."

His words ringing painfully in my ears, I raced out of the house the best I could with my stiletto heels. Pulling to the side, I leaned against the wall for support as I recovered myself. I hated to cry. Leon said it made us look weak, and I needed to be strong for Jessie. With one last deep breath, I managed to calm down and look my even and casual self.

Luckily, I didn't have to search too far for Jessie. She was only a block down. "Amy, how'd they react to me yelling- oh, what's wrong? _What did they do to you?_ "

"I'm fine," I said in short, attempting to defer her attention. I knew calming myself down wouldn't conceal all the shock I felt. She was my twin, she would always see right through me.

She didn't look convinced. Great, now I couldn't even get a word in. Jessie gripped me gently by each shoulder, then pulled me in for a hug. "Amy, what's wrong? Tell me, please. Maybe I can help. I mean, I'm sure they hate me at the moment, but I'll still go back in there and kick some arse if they hurt you again."

"Klaus is our father." So much for being gentle, that bitch shoved me away like I had just made a freakin' pass at her. Did I look like a Lannister? "Ow. Shoving me doesn't make it a lie."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Oh goody, angry Jessie was back to play. "He's not our father. I thought I established this. I-"

"What you did was yell at Elijah and insult him for no good reason, even though he's obviously the good Mikaelson," I cut her off coldly. "He defended you to Klaus, by the way. Just thought you ought to know."

Man, sometimes that girl could be so insensitive. "I'm glad? What does this have to do with anything? You just made up some bullshit about Klaus being our father. Let's go back to that."

"You were being a total bitch to Elijah, and I figured you should know!" My head was reeling, and I was slowly unraveling- anything to stay clear of the topic of Klaus. "Elijah didn't deserve that. Klaus did, totally, but not Elijah."

She scrunched up her face in distaste. "Dude, you're getting so off-topic. Is Klaus our father or not?"

"He is, okay?" Now I was yelling, and gaining some dirty looks from passing bystanders. "Freya did her freaky-arse magic paternity test, and supposedly we're his daughters. That's all I know."

"Magic doesn't even exist!"

I was so done with her. "You can't tell me what happened in there wasn't magic! I threw Klaus clear across a room without even _touching_ him! Can you honestly, in all good grace, tell me that wasn't magic? Give me another explanation. Go on, I dare you."

Jessie drew a blank, and as she accepted the truth, tears of her own sprung up in her bright green eyes. "No, no! Oh my _God!_ So, he's actually our father? This is actually happening right now? Fuck, fuck, _fuck!_ " As a stranger glowered at her, she spat at him, "Hey, my life's kinda falling apart right now, wanna mind your own bloody business? Move it or lose it, pal."

As he scooted by us, she turned back to me, and gasped through her tears, "We have to go. Like, now. We have to leave New Orleans, and we can't look back. Our newfound father is a psychopath. We. Have. To. Leave."

For once, I didn't have an argument for her. "Let's go to the motel, get our stuff, and book it." Jessie sported an expression of relief when she realized I wasn't going to fight her on this.

As we speed-walked down the streets of the French Quarter, I half-expected Klaus to come charging after us. But then I realized the truth. As much as we didn't want him as a father, he didn't want us as daughters. That hurt far more than it should have.

First we were abandoned by our mother when we were babies, and now that after fifteen long years we discovered our father, he didn't want us either. Jessie could be a difficult person to get along with, but were we really so terrible that _nobody_ wanted us?

Leon wanted us. He was the only person to ever want us, ever since he took us in at eleven years old.

And that's why my heart skipped a beat when we found him sitting lazily in our motel room. Jessie stiffened besides me. "Hello, my sweets." He grinned wolfishly, and I smiled back wholeheartedly. "What did I miss?"

 **A/N: What effect will Leon's arrival have on the girls? You'll see next chapter, in Jessie's perspective. What'd you think? Like it, love it, hate it? Let us know! And we'll explain why it's possible for Klaus to be their father, don't you worry.**


	9. Reinforcements

**A/N: Hello, amazing and beautiful and all-around awesome reviewers! Thank you so very much for your continued support, it means so much to us and encourages us to write more and more! We're sorry we haven't updated in a little bit, I (Goldie) spent some time vacationing in Manhattan, so it was hard for us to collaborate with the time difference. But, we're back now! We accidentally said that this chapter was going to be in Jessie's perspective, but that's a lie, it's Klaus' perspective.** ** _Next_** **chapter will be in Jessie's perspective.**

 **This chapter has some vulnerable-Klaus, as well as angry-Klaus (which is always fun to write because he can be so childish), and another change in canon. You'll see what it is in the chapter, there's a certain character who was killed off in the show who we decided to keep in this story.**

 **Anyway, please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks again :).**

 **Disclaimer: We aren't Julie Plec, and we do not own the Originals. No Klaus for us. :( However, we do own Amy, Jessica, and Leon, as well as any other OCs we create later on.**

 **Chapter 9: Reinforcements**

 **Klaus' Perspective**

"This. Is. Not. Possible!" I threw yet another artifact across the room, and Elijah sighed for what felt like the thousandth time, leaning his head against his propped fist, rubbing his temple with his other. If he wasn't amused by my anger, then he knew where the door was. "Freya!" She gazed up at me in exhaustion. "Redo the test."

"I've done it ten times now, brother," she explained wearily from where she sat next to a highly irritated Rebekah on the couch. "The results are the same. Like it or not, those girls are your daughters."

"Dammit!" I smashed my fist onto a piece of furniture, which was particularly ugly anyway. Something Rebekah forced me to buy at one point. I couldn't remember why I agreed; most likely, to put an end to her nagging. She had no artistic taste, but she liked to pretend she did. Kol rolled his eyes and stretched his legs out on the couch, purposefully shoving his shoes against Finn and Freya. Finn pushed him away, but Freya got up and left with one last dirty look thrown over her shoulder. Evidently she had enough of me for one evening.

"For God's sake, Nik," Rebekah whined, "you're going to wake up your daughter because you can't stop throwing a bloody tantrum! And I _liked_ that vase." The vase looked better now in pieces, that's how horrendously ugly it was. Sometimes I worried about my little sister and her preferences. Ugly furniture, and ugly men, both who ended up destroyed in one way or another.

"I can't help but agree, brother," Elijah sighed ( _yet again_ ) from his armchair. "This is getting us nowhere, and frankly, it's getting tiresome. We know your feelings on the matter, you do not have to take it out on our _expensive_ furniture. They are your daughters, and you _will_ have to handle this, whether you care to or not. They obviously need guidance."

"Yes, _obviously_ ," I spat with venom. "For example, do you honestly want young Jessica in our family? After she spoke to you so rudely? With such _little_ respect? Can you sincerely tell me that you would want her as a niece?" I saw Elijah's face when she shouted her vulgarities at him. He was indignant, annoyed, and borderline disgusted- and he couldn't deny it, however much he tried to hide it.

Elijah gazed at me tiredly, not fazed in the slightest. It was so very difficult to dig under his skin, but if anybody could, it was me. "Niklaus, she was confused and upset. We can hardly blame her for that. And I am certain, with enough time with her, I can curb her tongue." _You're being far too optimistic for my tastes._

"Exactly!" Kol excitedly leapt to his feet, eager to defend his newfound little friend. "You're giving her far too little credit, Nik! She doesn't mince words, sure, and her temper is nothing to toy with, but even the wildest of horses can be tamed. Well, not you, and not me, so if genetics are accurate, _probably_ not her, but it can't hurt to try."

"She's already too far gone," Finn spoke up randomly. For once, I agreed with him. I hadn't agreed with him in . . . a thousand years? No, I agreed with him when he was daggered and in his coffin, because he was the only one of my siblings who kept their mouths _shut_. Not by choice, but the point stood all the same. "Of course _you_ , of all people, would defend her." Kol growled at him- the guttural noise a deep, rumbling from his chest.

"I'm sure your influence on her, brother, will do her wonders," Rebekah told her youngest older brother, sarcasm dripping in buckets from her tone.

He glared at her viciously, and I sensed one of their petty arguments readying to rear itself. They were so close in age, only a year apart from her physical eighteen to his eternal nineteen, that they constantly butted heads. Forever emotional and hormonal teenagers. "And what is that supposed to mean? So far, I'm the only one of you lot who's _actually_ supporting the girl. I'm sure you all like Amy well enough, because she's like Elijah _,_ and everybody _loves_ Elijah. But the minute somebody comes along who's like _me_ , you all reject her." He shot us all poisonous looks. It was fascinating how quickly he could snap from a state of amusement to sheer, unadulterated rage.

Elijah sat up in his chair, eyeing our wayward younger brother with unmistakable concern. Normally, he preferred to simply brush the nuisance of Kol off, like the rest of us, but for once, Kol slipped past his typical bravado and revealed his true feelings of insecurity. "Kol, I know you used to feel left out, but I can assure you-"

"I don't need your empty assurances, brother!" Kol lashed out at him, and this was notabout his newfound niece any longer. "We all know how it is. 'Always and forever' doesn't apply to all of us. While Nik finishes his tantrum, I think I'll prepare to tell Jessie what it's like to be the black sheep of the family. She will need to learn soon enough!" With his words hanging heavily in the air, he stormed out of the room then the compound, probably in search of a drink and Davina.

"That didn't go well," Rebekah remarked needlessly. "But he's got a point, Nik." _Oh here we go._ "You have to accept these girls as your daughters." That was hardly the point he was attempting to make. He was making it about himself, as per usual.

"I don't have to do anything."

"Yes, you do!" she countered as quick as a flash. "You _hated_ how our father rejected you. He never viewed you as a son." I couldn't help but flinch at her words, even after a thousand years of despising the man and murdering him not once, but twice. "You can't do the same thing to your daughters. Even if one's a little rougher around the edges. They've had a hard time, Nik. They _need_ you to be their father."

 _I cannot do this._ I felt my insides melting together, and sensed another eruption boiling beneath the surface. Self-destruction was my forte, after all. For a thousand years, I was alone and tortured, and I was gifted with light. My Hope. But now, my world was thrown off its axis. By two teenage girls. I could handle any enemy who dared threaten my family and I, but my imminent demise would be caused by pair of wayward fifteen-year-olds. _I need a bloody drink._

"Niklaus, you know she's right. However much you wish to hide from your problems, you should know better than all, you _cannot_ hide from family." Elijah stared me down, but I had enough of my family for one night.

I blurred from the room, up the stairs, and into Hope's bedroom. _So innocent_. Her dark hair was splayed all around her, and her lips suckled against her little thumb. It was a habit Hayley wanted her to break, but if it comforted her, then I wouldn't stop it. I was so tightly wrapped around her little finger; there was _nothing_ I would not do for her, my beautiful daughter.

After all, it did me good to see such a babyish habit in her, after my oaf of a baby brother _corrupted my daughter_. He deserved good long stay in a coffin for that, but Hope would miss him too much. _Damn him, damn him, damn him_.

"My littlest wolf," I whispered softly enough as to not wake her up, sitting on the rocking chair by her bed. "Everything's changing. Perhaps for the better, as you always see the good in people. Maybe this is what this family needs. New members. We've been at each other's throats for a thousand years, and it only started to improve after you, sweetheart. Perhaps it will be a blessing in disguise . . . _perhaps_."

Much to my horror, her delicate eyelids fluttered open to reveal her eyes of such a vivid blue- _my_ eyes. She removed her thumb from her mouth. "Daddy?"

I kneeled by her bed, and lay a hand down on her cheek, caressing her silky smooth skin. "Hush now, my littlest wolf. Go back to sleep. Daddy's here. Dream of magic, and brave knights rescuing the most beautiful princesses in all the realms. But most of all . . . dream of family." Her eyelids slowly closed until her breathing deepened once more.

I gazed at her for a few more moments, affectionately stroking stray strands of hair out of her face, until I finally retreated to my own quarters. I promised myself I wouldn't do this, but I found myself eyeing my cell phone with a whole new trepidation. There was somebody I needed to call.

My father. My biological father, that is. Ansel. Only a short while ago, when Hope was still residing with my little sister, he came back into my life courtesy of Esther. He knew my precious daughter was alive, so I was planning to kill him. I didn't want to, not at all, but I felt I had to for Hope's sake. But something he said resonated in me . . .

 _I lifted up the blade. I had to, for my little girl. It had to be done, even if it hurt. For once, I had to be selfless- for her._

" _No, no Klaus," Ansel begged, but almost_ calmly _. He trusted me not to do this. The poor man was a fool. "I know you. You are not capable of this."_

 _He didn't know what I was capable of. When it came to my daughter, there was not a single thing I would not do, and that included murdering my father. "That's the first lie you've told me." I was about to swing the blade, end his life, and cut short any relationship we could have possibly formed._

" _Klaus, wait." I hesitated for a fraction of a second. After all, he had the right to his last words, did he not? "Please, don't do this. I can be the father you've never had, but always wanted. I can love you. And I already do, Klaus. I do love you. Even if you don't want to give up being a vampire. But if you won't spare me for yourself, do it for your daughter. Let her have a grandfather. Is it the worst thing for her to have another person in her life to protect and love her?"_

 _I absorbed his words, and although I hadn't planned on changing my mind . . . I lowered my blade._

We ended up striking a deal. It wouldn't do for him to live here with my mother still alive, so we agreed for him to run as far away as possible. A cloaking spell was placed on him by a witch he'd already made an alliance with, and after giving me his phone number, he disappeared. I never quite knew if Esther tried to look for him, but she was defeated not long after.

And thus, in one rare moment of mercy, I spared my father's life. In actuality, I was . . . relieved. I'd killed thousands without blinking an eye, but him . . . It would have been different.

He was waiting for my call, that much I knew, but it never came. After we defeated Esther, Mikael, and Dahlia, I wanted to focus on my daughter. At least, that's what I told myself. In all honesty, I didn't know how to start it. How to relate to a benevolent parent. To a father who didn't hate me.

Elijah, in his own way, tried to fill that parental role for all of us with his older brotherly authority. I'd always resented it, personally. Kol constantly acted against Elijah's wishes over the years, but mostly because he wanted his attention, even if it was negative. And Rebekah . . . Rebekah, in some ways, would always remain the sensitive little girl she once was. And that part of her needed Elijah to take care of her in the way only he could.

It wasn't the same, though, as a parent. He was our older brother, but not our father. It would never be the same. Mikael ruined that for me. But as my life spiraled out of control before my eyes, now was as good of a time as any to reach out. There wasn't anything I could foresee losing, other than a sliver of my own dignity. And I could easily regain it back by murdering some unforeseen worthless vessel. So . . . I dialed his number, and waited.

"Hello?" his gruff, yet somehow gentle voice greeted after two rings.

"Ansel," I murmured into my phone, suddenly lost for words.

"Klaus?" He sounded surprised, yet happy. Not many people sounded happy to hear me, except my own daughter. "I've been wondering when you'd call." He didn't say "if," I noticed. _Confident man._ "Is Esther . . . ?"

"All threats against my daughter are no more," I said with fervent satisfaction. "She's safe with me now. Hope is safe."

"Hope . . . a fitting name," he complimented, and I smiled the ghost of a smile, even though he couldn't see me. "Not that I'm complaining, but I can't help but wonder what's spurred this phone call?"

Although I would regret my wording later, I blurted out, "There's more of them!"

He didn't miss a beat. "More threats, you mean? I can help this time, Klaus, if you let me."

 _Not exactly, but closer than you realize_. "No . . . more daughters!"

Pure silence on the other end. "What do you mean?"

Hot, irrational anger bubbled up inside of me as I began to pace the room. For some reason, I wanted to take it out on him. "More daughters. Somehow, they were conceived _before_ my hybrid curse was broken. I don't know if this was some sort of exception, but I'll find out. There's two of them, Ansel, twins, and they're teenagers. Bloody hell, they're teenagers! Disrespectful, opinionated, assertive teenage girls. I don't know what the bloody hell to do with them, because I don't think Elijah will let me bash their heads in! Perhaps he will, though, for one of them- she shouted a slew of obscenities at him, I thought he was about to tear her tongue from her mouth. . . ."

He was listening patiently, but for a second, I thought I could hear the faint sound of chuckling from his end. "This isn't funny, old man. I'm not on good terms with either one of them- they like my brothers more than me! Well, not Finn, nobody likes Finn, but the end result is the same. I . . . I don't what to do."

Somehow, he knew exactly what I needed to hear. "Do you want me to come back, Klaus?"

Bloody hell, he was going to make me ask for it. _What do I put first? Pride, or somebody to help tame my wild daughters?_ Before my brain even registered it, I mumbled, "If you so desire." I would never ask outright.

"I'll be on the next flight out. I'll be there in about a day. Everything will be okay, Klaus. Believe it or not, teenage girls are not the worst thing in the world. You'll be able to handle it." _Yes, perhaps, but THESE teenage girls?_ "I've got to hang up so I can pack, but reinforcements are coming."

I smirked as he disconnected the fall. Yes, it would appear that these reinforcements were extremely necessary.

Elijah entered my room without invitation. Over the centuries, we'd ignored common courtesy and would simply barge in. Except with Kol, perhaps, who nearly always had a woman beneath his sheets. We didn't need to witness Kol's sex life; from what we could hear, he deviated a bit from the norm. And for the sake of everything holy, I did _not_ want to see my little sister with some inferior man. It had happened before, though, and although it plagued me with nightmares, at least the poor excuse for a man was killed every time.

"What now, brother?" I tossed my cell phone onto my nightstand. "Have you come to teach me the meaning of family and responsibility yet again? Perhaps this time, for a change, you'll use flashcards, as all of your advice is trite and _unoriginal_. If you have come for that, then I do not need to hear it."

He blatantly ignored me. "Who were you calling just now?"

This was going to be rich. "My biological father, Ansel. I told you about his arrival during Esther's attacks, did I not? I believe I did. He's on his way. Thought I'd shake things up a bit."

I smirked at his aghast expression. "Niklaus, did you not think of asking us? The other residents of this house? Your true family? I need not remind you, he isn't _our_ father."

Then came the blinding urge to tear his noble throat out. I jumped to my feet and for a moment, felt dark veins appear from under my eyes in my rage. "I do not need your reminders, brother. For it was _your_ father who hunted me down mercilessly for a millennium. _Your_ father who beat me as a child. _Your_ father who rejected me time and time again. Perhaps it is only fair that _I_ get a turn. Mikael is dead, after all, courtesy of _me._ "

I could tell by the softening of his features that he was relenting. After all, my logic was infallible. It only made sense that I was allowed my own biological father, instead of being tormented by theirs. There was no reason to deny me this, and even if he did, he knew perfectly well I would negate his opinion and do what I liked.

"I suppose it's fair," he finally acknowledged, tugging aimlessly at the sleeves of his suit. "But that's not why I'm here. I believe Amy and Jessica will attempt to run, and we need to stop them before they do so." I narrowed my eyes at him. All of this was true. So, what was the problem? "I think you should stay here."

Elijah was foolish to presume I would listen to him. "They're supposedly _my_ daughters, in case you have forgotten."

"I have not forgotten." His eyes were as dark and unfathomable as ever.

"Then why would you insist for me to stay here?"

He shifted his weight uncomfortably, a very un-Elijah-like move. "I do not believe they would want to see you, brother." My inner walls were solid and stable, so he couldn't see my reaction, no matter how much he tried. "You did bite Amy, after all. Give it time. I feel it would be best if Kol and I went ourselves. Young Amy and I connected over dinner, and it's no secret how well Kol and Jessica already get along."

"I'm their father, Elijah!" My teeth gritted together and my fists clenched. "And if I remember correctly, young Jessica wasn't quite taken with you, now was she? Perhaps _your_ presence would bother her."

It didn't affect him at all. "Perhaps, but I will take that chance if it will soothe Amy. Kol is there for Jessica. Rebekah would like to come, and her maternal instincts might do the girls some good. Jessica seems to like her."

"Ah, yes," I smiled without any humor. "A family gathering without the most important component- the _father_."

"If I remember correctly, you didn't want these girls as your daughters a small time ago. What is with the change of heart?" he mildly taunted me, waiting for me to take the bait and give into what he had been saying. I wasn't about to let him win.

"That isn't what we are discussing, dear brother. I need to see them. _I_ am their father, not you, not Kol, but me." I was fighting with my inner emotions to remain calm, but his constant goading wasn't helping with the matter.

His features were etched with regret, but he didn't back down from his rigid stance. "Niklaus, my decision is final. I don't want to undermine your authority as their father, but this is what's best for the girls."

I didn't need to let him get away with this, but I knew the only thing that could calm me down now was Hope's presence. Her rocking chair called to me. "Very well then, if you think it _best_. Go _bond_ with my bastard children without including their bastard father. See if this _fixes_ our family, as you've been hoping for the last thousand years. See if I care."

I didn't bother to listen if Elijah, Kol, and Rebekah left already. My eyes were on my slumbering daughter. "You and me, sweetheart," I whispered quietly enough as to not wake her. "No matter what happens, nothing can separate us."

 **A/N: So, what did our ever so loyal reviewers think? Like it, love it, hate it? Let us know with your wonderful comments! How do you think Ansel's appearance will affect the story? How will it affect Klaus, finally having a caring father? You'll have to find out ;).**


	10. Nothing but Darkness

**A/N: Hiiii everybody! *Hi Doctor Nick!* If you don't watch the Simpsons, you probably think we're insane. Or even if you do watch the Simpsons, you probably still think we're insane in general. You aren't wrong! Thank you soooo much for the awesome feedback, we appreciate all of you so much! Savily in particular, we love you and all of your reviews. In fact, when you mentioned that bit about Kol and Jessie having their own vow? We didn't even think about it, but we immediately adored the idea, and it'll take place the chapter after next. You're our inspiration! :D**

 **Warnings: Okay, so this chapter is pretty loaded. There's some heavy stuff in here, starting with a confrontation between Jessie and Leon that turns very, very ugly, involving both physical, kind of sexual abuse and emotional abuse and mentions of previous sexual abuse. There's some serious contemplation of suicide, and even an attempt. So, here's your warning, if reading about things like this upset you and might even serve as a trigger warning, we do not recommend this chapter.**

 **Other than that, there's some Elijah-Jessie bonding in this chapter that we worked really, really hard on and we hope you like it, and we hope it's in-character for Elijah. Anyway, without much further ado, please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks again :).**

 **Chapter 10: Nothing but Darkness**

 **Jessie's Perspective**

"Leon, you're back! I missed you!" I watched in mild disgust as Amy leaped forward into his hearty embrace, then averted my eyes as he tilted her head up and captured her lips in his. Ugh, he always _slurped_. Someone needed to teach him how to use his tongue properly, because it didn't feel all that great to have Salazar Slytherin's freaking basilisk roaming around your mouth.

At least he brought the rest of our stuff. _My I-pod better be in there._ I couldn't survive without my baby. It was a miracle I lasted this long. Oh, and the rest of my ADHD medication was important too, but not on the same level of my _music_.

As she pulled away, he gasped at the blood caked around her neck. "What _happened,_ baby?" He dabbed at it and brought it to his mouth. _Creepy, much?_ Who even did that?

"It's a long story," she sighed, but the stupid smile was still glued across her face. Around him, she became a doe-eyed waif. "But I'm okay, I promise. I'm just going to take a shower to get clean." She promptly headed to the bathroom, letting loose a little squeal as he landed a playful smack on her arse on the way. The noise echoed all around the room and I shuddered, even after she closed the bathroom door behind her.

Then he transferred his attention to me. _Oh goody, this should be fun._ "Jessie, baby- you miss me?"

No, actually, I did _not_ , but I couldn't very well say that out loud. "Of course," I breathed, forcing a grin of my own. "Why wouldn't I?" _Maybe because you're a pervy, hateful prick._

His eyes searched my face- he must've picked up on my lack of enthusiasm. "Aw, don't be jealous, baby. I'll give you love, too. Come over here." It felt like I was marching right to my death as I entered his protective hold. I closed my eyes as his lips crashed against mine and his hands wandered to my chest, groping me over my shirt.

He must've noticed that I stiffened against him, so he abruptly ended the kiss. "What, you're too good for me now? Huh? Is that it?"

Great, now he was angry with me. "No, wait, don't be mad." Reluctantly, I pulled him back against me. "I'm not any better than you."

"Good." He ducked in to kiss me again. His breath was rank with cigar smoke, and stale whisky. _Ick, ick, ick_. His hands wandered all over and all I could do was suppress my periodic flinches. "You're doing it again!" He pushed me away, none too gently, might I add.

"Doing _what?_ " I knew damn well what. "I'm not doing anything wrong, Leon, calm down already."

Leon's hazel eyes, so gentle when gazing upon Amy, burned with a fire that he seemed to save only for me. "Ghetto bitch thinks she's above me now, don't you?" My eyes lowered to the ground and I desperately wished for a hole to swallow me up. _Any hole would be much appreciated._ "So, what is it? You're fine with trying to fuck some random asshole at a fancy party, but you won't give _me,_ the man who kept you from becoming no better than shit on the street, the time of day?"

Random asshole at a fancy party . . . ? Hold the freakin' _phone_. How would he know about Jackson? He wasn't there! Wait a second . . . _Amy!_ Dumbfounded was an understatement for how I felt. Chills spread themselves all across my body and I shivered. Only Leon could rip away all of my protective walls and make me so vulnerable. I _hated_ it. "Amy told you." It wasn't a question.

He laughed bitterly, without humor. "I called her after you were asleep last night to check up, and she told me about it. Really, Jessie? That's low, even for you." I hugged myself to try and regain any of the warmth he'd stolen away from me. His stance softened, though, and he stepped forward to pull me into an unwanted hug. "It's okay, baby. Not all men like dirty little tramps. You're used goods. But that's okay, baby, you know why?" Each word was an individual stab to my heart, and _no_ , I didn't want to know why. "I like you tainted."

Allowing a sudden rush of fury to course through me, I shoved him backwards with all my might. "How about you stop putting _me_ down, and take a look in the fucking mirror?! Stop being such a loser, and get a girl your _own_ age."

Leon stood before me in a flash. Like, it was a _blur_. I didn't think any person could _move_ that fast. It scared me, if we're being honest here. He grabbed me by my arms and began shaking me until my teeth rattled. His iron grip hurt more than I'd ever like to admit. "You know what, Jessie? You're just as much of an _idiot_ as you are a _slut!_ I found you on the streets, put a roof over your ungrateful ass, and kept you clothed and happy." Happy was a hell of a stretch. "What was our deal? What do I get in return?"

"Stop!" I tried to wriggle out of his hold. "Let me go, you're hurting me!"

"What do I get in return?" Leon shouted in my face, saliva all over me. He wouldn't let me go.

Even though it was hard to respond with how ferociously he was jerking me around, I managed to make do. "I've had _sex_ with you! Starting when I was only _thirteen_. Isn't that payment enough? I paid back my debts." This time, I shimmied an escape and ducked away from him. "But I don't want to do it anymore! I'm done _servicing_ you. I don't owe you _anything!_ "

His hand struck across my face faster than I could blink, I crashed right into the floor. Leon stood over me in one of his fits of rage, and I coughed out a dry sob as he landed a kick right in my stomach. "You owe me _everything!_ " Another kick. "Without me, you would be _nothing!_ Without Amy, you would be nothing." _Another_ kick, and I swore he cracked a rib that time.

Leon abruptly stood back and gazed down at me almost contemplatively. "Fine, you know what? I don't need your slutty ass to warm my bed at night. I don't need you. I never wanted you anyway, not like I want Amy. She's much better. You're a _poor_ excuse for your sister, I hope you know that. You're _nothing_ compared to her. We're done, you and I. I tried, I really tried to give you a chance for your sister's sake, but you are nothing but a filthy little whore!" With that, he up and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Amy was still in the bloody shower. If she hadn't heard any of that, then she must've spontaneously gone deaf. But whatever the mysterious circumstances, I just couldn't stay in that room anymore.

So, sobbing bitterly and uncontrollably, I found my way onto the roof of the hotel. Not just for the cool, pleasant night air, mind you. The edge was looking mighty fine just about then. Before I knew it, I was standing right on the ledge. Maybe it would be best if I simply jumped off. Amy would be better off without me. _Everyone_ would be better off without me.

By now, I was crying so hard I couldn't even breathe. My vision was blurring all over the place and a feather could've knocked me over. The ground was so far down. It would hurt it when I splattered against the concrete, but at least it would be over quickly. At times like these, I just wanted _everything_ to be over. I couldn't take it anymore.

Leon could live happily ever after with Amy. It would be easier for them without me there, acting perpetually as the third wheel. Maybe Amy would be sad at first, but she'd learn to get over it. Leon was right about me, and if he could see it, then surely so could Amy. She'd understand eventually that it was the right thing to do.

Now, I just had to finish convincing myself.

As I was in the process of steeling my resolve, a voice startled me out of my trance. "Cold night, isn't it?" When I didn't budge an inch, the man's light and mild, yet unyielding voice drifted over to me once more. "You should be inside on such a cold night, not out here." It was a hint to step off the ledge, but I ignored it.

Again, I was crying far too hard to even begin to muster up much of a reply, but I did glance back over my shoulder. From what I could make out through my tears, it was . . . Elijah? I was so _dizzy_ , it was hard to tell. "L-L-Leave m-me alone! I-I-I wanna be alone! _J-J-Just leave!_ "

"It _is_ a nice night, I suppose." Elijah said it so matter-of-factly that I couldn't help but wait to see where he was going with this. He took a few precise steps closer to me, as if judging how close he could come without scaring me off the building. "I'm not too partial to the cold myself, but it can be quite unbearably hot here, so it's a welcome change."

It was really quite embarrassing how violent my sobs were, and how little control I had over them. He didn't seem to mind, though, and if he did, he didn't say anything. Cautiously, he stepped up on the ledge next to me. "It's a long way down. Quite painful, I assume. I wouldn't recommend it, if I were you."

All I could do was shake my head and step away from him, but my clumsy self nearly lost my balance and toppled right over the edge, so he lashed out a hand and steadied me. My heart beat a mile a minute- that was close.

I mournfully looked up at him through my wet lashes, finally gaining up the nerve to do it. To step off. But he didn't need to see it, I didn't want to put him through that. "L-L-Let me g-go. J-J-Just l-let me do it. E-Everyone w-would be better off-f." He didn't leave, but that wouldn't put a stop to my plan. Just then, I began to take a step off . . .

"As your uncle, however strained our newfound relationship, I will _not_ let you do this." That well-dressed bastard didn't let go, or leave me alone. Instead, he gathered me up in his arms and outright lifted me off the ledge. So much for the kind and sensitive approach. Well, there went my suicide attempt.

Now, I _really_ couldn't breathe. It was actually a little worrisome. Breathing was a good habit to maintain. "Hush now, little one," the side of my head was pressed against his chest as he cupped my hair. It was . . . comforting. "You've worked yourself up. You'll faint soon enough if you don't settle down. Breathe, child. Take deep breaths."

I tried to do what he asked of me, I really did, but my breathing was still rapid and uneven. My lungs just weren't doing their damn job correctly. He slowly began to stroke my hair in a rhythmic motion. "You're hysterical. There there, you need to calm yourself. Shhh, shhh, shhh." His deep, steady voice gradually lulled me into a state of tranquility. "What is it that upset you so? Is this about Klaus?"

This was a predicament. I couldn't very well tell him about Leon, or Leon would probably die, and no matter how much I hated him at the moment, I didn't want him to die. But briefly considering suicide over the Klaus predicament? That didn't hold up.

He attempted to push me away to presumably to look me in the eye, but like the little bitch I was, I latched onto his shirt stubbornly. "No," I whimpered, "don't go." That wasn't meant to sound so pathetic. No adult had ever taken the time to give me solace and- well . . . Leon's way didn't count. Even _I_ could observe the sheer improbability of this situation, though, since I spewed profanities all over him not too long ago. I sincerely regretted that now.

He absorbed that for a moment, then wrapped his arms around me completely. Never before had I felt so warm, so _safe_. "I'm not going anywhere, little one."

"I-I'm sorry," I mumbled into his fancy-pansy dress shirt, unable to stop, "for yelling at you. I was just really, really mad at Klaus and you were . . . there. Don't be mad. Please don't be mad." I couldn't stand another person furious with me, not after my confrontation with Leon. "I don't want you to be mad, please don't be m-"

Elijah shushed me again, but not in a bad way, per se. Not in a "shut up" kind of way. In a . . . caring way. "I'm not mad, Jessica. Calm down, little one, I'm not mad." Gently, he pushed me back by the shoulders and looked me dead in the eye, like he tried to do before. "I'm not happy about it, mind you, but considering your state of mind, I will allow it to slide. Do not expect the same courtesy again." I let my head drop down to break off eye-contact, but he nudged my chin back up with his pointer finger. "Do you understand me, Jessica?"

I nodded mutely, not trusting myself to speak. But based on his expression, I figured out verbal answers were more up his alley. "I get it . . . I'm sorry, 'Lijah. I like you a lot now, and I'm sorry for making it seem like I didn't. It probably doesn't matter, though, 'cause you hate me. _Everybody_ hates me."

He gave me a sad little smile, and brushed away my constant stream of tears that had only now started to dry up. "Nobody hates you, little one." He never met _Leon_. "I most certainly do not. You have a mouth on you," we chuckled together, "but believe it or not, it isn't easy to hate you. You are more likable than you give yourself credit for. You have Niklaus's blood, after all, and despite his . . . flaws, he could charm his way out of Alcatraz." A dry smirk toyed at his lips. "It appears you have inherited this talent . . . for the most part."

"Except when I'm insulting your music tastes . . . Which, by the way, I actually like. I play violin, so I don't really know why I attacked you with that. Just couldn't think of anything else, really. It sounds awfully stupid in hindsight. Rose-colored glasses are a myth."

This time, he genuinely smiled out of amusement. He found me funny. That enforced me with a boost of pride. Together, we began to walk to the roof's staircase, leading back into the motel. "Violin, you say? I play a little myself. Perhaps you could play a piece for me at a different time, if you would like."

He seemed earnestly interested, not just saying it out of politeness. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Sticking out an arm, he stopped me in my tracks before I could reach the staircase. This conversation had been prolonged, but it was bound to happen, after I nearly jumped off a building. "Jessica, I would be negligent in my duties as your new uncle if I did not question your motives for what happened back there."

"Uncle, uncle," I played with the unfamiliar word. "Never had an uncle before. Well, I never had a father either, so I guess everything's changing. I still can't really believe that one. Just have to roll with it, amirite?"

This was _definitely_ not the answer he wanted to hear. Apparently he didn't like my clever side-steps. That man just _oozed_ strictness. It must've been something to do with the suits- and oh dear lord, I just noticed the stain my tears left on his dress shirt. Was there anything I _couldn't_ ruin? For Merlin's _sake_.

"Your attempts to dance around the truth are endearing at best, but this is a serious matter."

As serious as matters could get. "What happened back there . . . never happened." He arched a dark eyebrow almost scornfully. "You can't tell anybody. I wasn't going to do it, not really. There's nothing to tell."

Elijah saw straight through me. Was he some sort of mind-reader, or was I just the worst liar in the history of con artists? "You took a step off, I had to catch you. Your lies are flimsy, and frankly, beneath you. I suggest another approach."

Why wouldn't he just let this _go?_ Why did he have to care? It made everything so much harder. If only he could be like every other adult and ignore me. But then again, I actually sort of liked the attention he was providing me with. He was focused on _me_. Solely _me._ Not perfect, flawless Amy, but _me_. Even if it was for all the wrong reasons.

"I'm . . ." I struggled for an appropriate response. "I'm fucked up, Elijah." That definitely wasn't it, but at least he didn't take the time to scold me for it, sensing that I couldn't handle that at the moment. "I don't know what to tell you. I'm seriously fucked up. I . . . had a conversation with somebody from my past after the whole Klaus ordeal, and it just pushed me over the edge . . . for lack of a better term."

He listened to me, actually listened to me. And the dip of his head indicated for me to continue, so I did. For once, I could open up to somebody without inevitable judgment. "I'm not the niece you probably wanted. I'm not . . . Hope. I will never be like her- besides the fact that she's three years old. She's innocent, and I'm _not_. I haven't been in a really, really long time. Growing up in that system . . . you don't know what it's been like. I don't know what you've been through, but you don't know what _I've_ been through. I . . ."

Another wave of tears overwhelmed me, and I stepped away from him so he wouldn't have to see. Never before had I felt so vulnerable, not even on the edge of the rooftop only moments before. "I don't want to be like this, 'Lijah. I really don't. I want to be better, I want to be _good_. But then I screw something up, I get hurt all over again, and I end up worse than before. It's a cycle of destruction, and sometimes I just want to end it. Amy would be better off. All I do is bring her down. If I died, then maybe she'd finally be _free_."

I barely knew the bloke, yet I _trusted_ him. My deepest, darkest secrets and now he knew about them. He could see me for what I really was. _Broken._

If I talked anymore, I knew I'd break down all over again. But luckily, I didn't have to, because it was Elijah's time to shine. "My family has been on this planet for a thousand years." Shock numbed my mind, and I was about to call bullshit when I realized, how much weirder was that then what occurred during the dinner party? _Just roll with it, Jessie._ "Yes, it's difficult to believe, but we are the first vampires. The Originals. I understand you don't believe in vampires, or magic-"

"After this evening, I don't know what I believe in anymore," I told him honestly, then realized I interrupted him. "Sorry. Proceed with your thoughts."

He didn't seem to mind too much. "In the time we've been alive, we have wrecked so much havoc and violence and _hate_. . . . No matter how much you think you despise yourself, I can assure you, you haven't experienced it to the degree of my self-loathing." His voice was low and his eyes far away, in a distant land. "You're a child, a baby in the grand scheme of things. Allow me to be so trite as to say it won't always be this way."

It became apparent for me that he wasn't just comforting me anymore. He might've been strong, composed, proper. A thousand years old. But that didn't mean _he_ didn't ever need a shoulder to lean on. So, even though it was an awkward movement, I placed a hand on _his_ shoulder. I vowed to be strong for _him_. He glanced over to me in pure surprise, but he didn't move my hand. "Maybe, just maybe you're right. It won't always be this way. Maybe it isn't over for me, but it also isn't over for _you_. I know what it feels like to hate yourself. Maybe not like you do, but I get it. But, I don't care what you've done, you're . . . good."

He opened his mouth to protest, but I wasn't finished yet. "Don't try to argue. You _are_ good. You forgave me for shouting at you and insulting you, when you didn't have to. Defended me to Klaus, when you didn't have to. Saved a fifteen-year-old fucked up kid from killing herself, when you didn't have to. You saved me. You solaced me in one of my darkest moments, and dammit, you didn't have to. You're a . . . vampire." _Still sounds weird saying it aloud_. "You're a . . . thousand years old." _Sounds REALLY weird to say that one out loud._ "Okay, you've probably killed people. But let me tell you something, humans aren't so much better. At least not the ones _I've_ dealt with. You're with me right now, talking to me, listening to me, and you might just be the first person besides my sister to ever do that. So, no, I don't care what other people might think of you, and I don't even care what you think about yourself. You. Are. Good. That's the end of it."

For the first time in my life, I might've actually had a positive impact on somebody. He stared at me, rigid and unmoving, but his calm mask dissolved right before my eyes. He was . . . touched. Genuinely touched. Like he _desperately_ needed somebody to say that to him, appreciate what he did for others instead of naming him as a monster as if he were nothing else.

In a move so swift I couldn't have prepared myself for it, he pulled me into him once more, but this time, I didn't think the embrace was for _me._ It was a slip of his beloved control, one his siblings would surely mercilessly mock. That didn't mean I stopped it, though. Holy Shakespeare, this man had been around for a thousand years. How many times had anybody stopped and given him a goddamn hug?

So, I wrapped my arms around his middle, and you bet your arse I hugged my uncle. He essentially saved my life. It was the least I could do. And besides, I lapped up the paternal attention like a malnourished _dog_. "Thank you," he whispered so quietly I nearly didn't catch it. He cupped the back of my head again. "Perhaps . . . this is what my family needs. _Our_ family."

 _Wait, hold the phone_. I instantly pulled away from him, even though I secretly liked his amendment to "our family." "That doesn't mean we're moving in with you right away, though! Klaus . . . Klaus is a freak."

He smiled his dry, Elijah-smile. "Give it time. He at least accepted his position as your father. He has made . . . progress. "

"That makes me feel _so_ much better, thank you, 'Lijah." The sarcasm was almost palpable. In much better spirits than before, I smirked and tacked on, " _Uncle_ 'Lijah."

He definitely felt like an uncle now. Even kind of a father, really. More so than Klaus, anyhow. I was certainly ambivalent about this family. Elijah was turning out to be the parental one, while Kol, on the other hand, had the potential to be more of a best friend, or even a brother of sorts. I didn't feel much toward Finn or Freya, and I _did_ like Rebekah, although again, she came across as more sisterly.

And then there was Niklaus bloody Mikaelson. Don't even get me _started_ on him. No, seriously, don't. Uncle Elijah could express all he wanted about Klaus "accepting his fatherly duties," but that was a whole lot of bullshit, if you ask me. Plus, even if he _did_ man up to the job, who said I _wanted_ him as a father? It would've been so much easier if it were Elijah.

He stuck out his arm for me to hold, and I slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow. "Come, my brother and sister are here, likely pestering Amy to no end."

It was Rebekah more likely than Freya, and . . . he didn't say "your father," so I presumed it to be Kol. I didn't mind that, I seriously liked the bugger and enjoyed his presence. He was obnoxious, undeniably so, but then again, so was I. Platonic soul mates, if you will. At least I had two new family members on my side. Three, if I decided to count Rebekah. I would need them, if I had to stand against the malevolent force by the name of Niklaus Mikaelson. "We ought to save her, then."

 **A/N: What did you all think? We told you it was pretty heavy. Like it, love it, hate it? A bit of an emotional roller-coaster there. How did you like the development in Elijah and Jessie's relationship? We wanted to give you more insight to Jessie's character, too. Don't worry, it won't undermine the bond she has with Kol. In fact, the chapter after the next one will flesh that one out even further. Anyway, sound off in the comments, we'd love to know what you thought about this installment!**


	11. Queens of the Stage

**A/N: Let's start this off by saying we are so, so sorry. We never planned for our next update to take this long. I (Goldie) in particular have been struggling with depression, and for all of you who have dealt with it, you know it's not easy to overcome. But I'm starting to do better, and I'm starting to write again, so I wanted to begin that by publishing another chapter. Thank you all for your support and reviews, it means so much to us.**

 **We read and appreciate every review, and we're sorry for not responding individually, so we'll do it here. Elijah will have a very important relationship with Jessie throughout the story as well as with Amy, and we're so glad that you like the Jessie-Kol bond. Next chapter is almost entirely full of them. Also, the reason Jessie didn't have bruises when Elijah found her is because of their ability to quickly heal since they have Klaus's vampire blood. Thanks for all the feedback! :D**

 **Since we made you all wait for so long, we decided to make this a fun chapter. Of course, there's some angst (it's us, did you expect anything less?), but we included a karaoke section that we had a lot of fun writing :).**

 **Luckily, we have several chapters written ahead of this, so our next few updates will be much, much quicker. Please read, review, and enjoy! Thank you so, so much.**

 **Disclaimer: We own nothing but our OCs.**

 **Warnings: Mentions of statuary rape.**

 **Chapter 11: Queens of the Stage**

 **Amy's Perspective**

I was damn near ready to pull my hair out from its roots and choke myself with it. If you think it's easy to be stuck in a room with the two most immature siblings the world had ever invented, then you're dead wrong. Even the TV couldn't tune out their bickering.

Leon was long gone, and I was more frustrated than ever. Since I was in the shower, I could hardly hear a thing, but I had an inkling of what happened. Jessie mouthed off to him, and because of that, he had to get some fresh air before he hurt her. It had happened before. She just didn't know when to quit.

"How long will Elijah be with Jessie?" Kol whined for what felt like the thousandth time. "I'm _bored_."

"Then leave, you dunce!" Rebekah snapped back, throwing her high-heeled shoe at him. That must've been the fifth time she'd used one as a projectile, and she received them whenever Kol was bothered enough to return the favor. I groaned and buried my head into the musty motel pillow. "Nobody's _keeping_ you here."

"I want to see Jessie!"

I only lifted my head and strained my neck to spit, "Oh for fuck's sake, go and see her then!" and he had the nerve to look _offended_.

"Quite a strong word coming from such a young mouth," Rebekah remarked lazily, but I knew she wouldn't harp on it like another uncle who would go unnamed. Hint: he adored his suits.

"Did you miss me?" There stood Jessie in the doorway with Elijah behind her, his hand pressed comfortably against her back. Well, obviously she didn't hate him anymore, and he must've forgiven her. Upon further inspection, though, I noticed the red rims of her eyes and her blotchy, swollen cheeks. She'd been crying- a lot. Crying onto Elijah, if his stained dress shirt was any sort of sign. _Why is she so upset?_

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" was my instant response. That must've not been the _right_ one, though, because she shot daggers at me as she collapsed down onto her bed next to Kol.

"Bugger the bloody hell off, you're not helping anything, so just leave me alone," she growled at me with a startling addition of venom. Undeserved . . . it must've been about Leon. She was shifting her blame from him to me. Just because she couldn't suck it up and be cordial to him, didn't mean I had to absorb the brunt of her resentment.

"Jessica," Elijah chastened sharply, and I bit back a smug smirk at the defeated slump of her shoulders. "That is no way to speak to your sister, when she merely expressed her concern for you. I advise you to apologize."

This bloke . . . this bloke could become useful in my battles against Jessie. After all, I was the reasonable one of us both, so by default, he would be on my side more often than not. By the glint in my twin's eyes, an apology would be nonexistent. "Yes, _Jessica_ ," she cringed, and I eagerly awaited her reply, "I await your apology."

"Then you'll be waiting so long, _Gandhi_ would applaud you."

Kol openly snickered as he so often did after one of her quips, and Rebekah's grin of approval did not escape my notice. Fortunately for me, and unfortunately for her, though, Elijah remained unamused.

"How inconveniently stubborn of you." I held up my hand to stop Elijah, even though I found his word choices comical. Judging from Jessie's mood, apologizing wouldn't help the situation, rather it would only piss her off _more_. Whatever happened between Leon and her while I was in the shower was enough for her to direct her anger at me.

"Elijah, thank you for your willingness to stand up for me, but it is unnecessary. I am used to my sister's _elegant_ comments. Others may not be so understanding, but I've grown a thicker skin." I said that with every intention of receiving a sly retort in return, but to my dismay, she looked wounded. What _did_ Leon say to her?

"Sod off," she mumbled.

Kol elbowed her gently and announced, "Shouldn't we address the abnormally large elephant in the room?" Elijah and Rebekah nodded in cautious agreement.

"You?" Jessie asked without missing a beat, and he slapped her upside the head, to which she responded with a well-placed punch on his shoulder. He pouted, and they simultaneously sneered at one another. Elijah released an exasperated sigh, but he hadn't lived with Jessie for fifteen years, so he had _no_ idea. Although, the poor soul had to deal with a certain Kol Mikaelson. . . .

Kol simpered after finally tearing his eyes away from his exaggerated glaring contest with my twin, "If anyone is a constant, lurking elephant in this family, it's Finn. But that's another story for another day. I do not want to talk about my dullard of a brother more than strictly necessary. Now, you must be wondering why we're gracing you with our presences."

"I definitely am," I grumbled. And I wouldn't use the verb "gracing." More like "burdening." But I wouldn't say that aloud, at least not with Elijah here.

"Elijah put the dots together and discovered that you two could very well be about to leave the city," Rebekah said almost accusingly. How the _hell_ did Elijah figure that out? He was too smart and perceptive for his own good. And to think we would've gotten away with it, if it weren't for that meddling . . . vampire. Vampire, right? Oh, I didn't know, I was confused as hell. "Was he _right_?" She had the potential to be a real bitch all right, with how she asked that, like we'd personally wronged her.

Our lack of responses served as their answer. Rebekah opened her mouth to speak again, but I cut her off with, "Look, if you feel so strongly about it, we won't leave, all right?" I was _so_ going to regret this later. "But we need space. Your psychotic brother bit me and could've very well killed me, and now we find out he's our father?! Um, no to the thanks. We need some room to breathe and figure this out, all right?"

Elijah understood at least by the dip of his head, but even Rebekah nodded grudgingly. There wasn't any response from my other uncle, though, so I glanced over to see Jessie using Kol's shoulder as a pillow as he twirled her blonde, blue-streaked waves around his fingers in a childish fascination. They were in their own little world. "It's fading, you'll have to dye it again soon, darling. You ought to get on that."

She hummed in agreement. "Same color, or different?"

He thought it over a minute. "You're like me, unpredictable. Go for _different_. Anything but pink, though. I despise pink." He obviously forgot about my magenta streaks. "Purple wouldn't suit you either, too weak of a color." Magenta was literally pink-ish purple. _Gee thanks, Uncle Kol. Dick._

"What about red?"

"Oh yes, go for red. Like having the blood of your enemies in your hair. It'll be fantastic."

"All right, I'mma do it."

"Have at it. Maybe I'll convince Davina to join you."

It was as if he'd been her uncle or friend her entire life. There was just something about those two that absolutely _clicked_. Lost, kindred spirits finding some sort of refuge in each other- platonically, obviously, since he was her uncle. _Our_ uncle. It seemed as though Jessie captured his full-time interest, though.

"If you're quite finished misguiding our niece," Elijah deadpanned, to which Kol reacted with a shrug and cheeky grin, "then perhaps we ought to take our leave." He shifted his unwavering gaze over to me. "Do I have your word you will not leave the city?"

 _Don't roll your eyes, don't roll your eyes, don't roll your eyes_. Alas, I lost my internal battle, and flicked my eyes up to the ceiling for the briefest moment. "Yes, _sir_. You have my most heartfelt word."

The three of them wrote down their cell phone numbers onto a scrap of paper we found in the drawer between our beds, and when Jessie mentioned we didn't have cell phones (at the moment), Kol vowed to buy us the flashiest ones he could find. At least he included me into it this time, although it was likely an afterthought.

Without much further ado, other than Kol's incessant whining about wanting to stay and Jessie's echos of that, the three Mikaelsons left the hotel room. I breathed out a sigh of relief. I had enough of my newfound, crazy family for one day. Hopefully, they would have the good sense to give us some space, and simply leave us alone.

Oh, I crack myself up. Who was I kidding?

 **The next day . . .**

Leon and Jessie weren't on good terms, to say the least. She was avoiding him like the plague. I wanted to berate her for her rudeness, but Leon told me to drop it. He told me it wasn't worth it to pick a fight, and I knew he was right. He was always right. One of the many things I loved him for.

I giggled as he brushed his fingers tenderly against my neck, then pressed kisses down in the burning trail he left. We were cuddling on my hotel bed, like old times. Jessie was tuning the world out with her I-pod headphones firmly stuck in her ears, probably with the volume turned all the way up. Due to her concentration, I guessed she was listening to one of her screechy heavy metal bands.

"You're so beautiful," Leon whispered into my hair, and I melted against him. He was so good to me, I didn't deserve him. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my entire life."

I snuggled into his chest, enjoying the scent of his musky cologne. "You flatter me. You're no slouch yourself."

He pulled me closer into him and hissed huskily into my ear, "You have no idea the things I'd do to you if your sister weren't in the room." A shiver ran through my entire body, and a much-welcomed warmth spread through me. "I know you want me . . . I can smell it, feel it." His tongue followed the contours of my jaw, and I suppressed a moan. " _I can taste it_."

I blushed as his hand roamed around. "Oh . . . _oh_. I can make her leave, Leon. Just take me right now. Please, I can't handle this much longer." He smiled against my heated skin and nibbled on it. "You're teasing me!"

"You're right, I'm sorry." His hand slipped under my dress, and my eyebrows shot up. Here, now, _really_? "You're just so tempting, you allure me. So stunning . . . You're mine, Amy, you're all mine. Do you know how much I love you?"

"Not half as much as I love you." I lustfully kissed him on his sweet, sweet lips.

The two of us jumped as we noticed Jessie standing disapprovingly at the foot of the bed, and Leon quickly removed his hand from underneath my clothing. "I would tell you to get a room, but since you have one, I think I'll _leave_ this room."

Leon's gaze landed on my sweet sister and her harsh glare, "Love, you could join us, release some of that aggression. I think it could be good for you." _Okay, Leon may be pushing it. I know he is just trying to look out for her, but that across poorly._

If it were possible, I would bet smoke would be fuming out of her ears. She was livid. Jessie looked as though she desired to say something, but rather, let out an exasperated groan, before taking her leave and slamming the door shut. Leon shrugged innocently, and I charged after her, even though a part of myself begged me to let her go and allow Leon to work his magic on me.

"Jessie!" She refused to turn around, or slow down her pace. "Jessie, c'mon, calm down!" Catching up with her, I yanked on her arm and pulled her to a stop, flinching at the orbs of green fire she directed toward me. "He was just joking, you don't have to be so worked up over it."

She didn't calm down. "He's not joking. You know he isn't. He's a pervert."

A protective feeling bubbled up inside of me, and any sense of sympathy I had for her dissipated. Leon didn't deserve to be treated like this, even if he wasn't around to hear it. "He's not, you _know_ he isn't. Stop making up _lies_."

Jessie disparagingly scoffed at me, and red bled into my vision. "Amy, is there a cow in here? Because I smell bullshit. He fostered us at eleven, and we had sex with him at thirteen. He was our first. Is that not . . . weird to you? It was practically _forced_. He said if we wanted to live with him, then we had to have sex with him."

She wasn't going to rewrite history with me standing right here. I wouldn't let her. "I don't know what kind of stories you told yourself to sleep at night, but we both willingly slept with him. It was consensual. You're acting like he _raped_ us." Now it was my turn to snort. "If you can't handle the fact that you lost your virginity at thirteen, fine, but don't make Leon out to be some sort of twisted rapist!"

Blood rushed to her cheeks, giving them a cherry red glow. She couldn't handle the facts. Of the two of us, she _always_ had to have her head stuck in the clouds. She was ashamed of who we were, of what we've done. I'd learned to accept it a long time ago. There wasn't any way to change it, so why bother worrying over it?

"Then what _was_ it, Amy?" She looked about ready to slap me across the face. "I didn't want to have sex with him. Not then, not now, not _anytime_. I was thirteen. Still a confused, scared-shitless little kid. I wasn't ready to have sex. I didn't _know_ what kind of life I was set to lead. He said if we didn't have sex with him, then he'd kick us out and make us live on the streets again. It was coercion, and that's essentially _rape_."

"God, why're you making this into something it _isn't?_ " I clenched my fists, closed my eyes, and counted to ten to refrain from flatout decking her. _She doesn't know what she's talking about, she's just making shit up._ "It wasn't rape. You know it, I know it." As the slightest of doubts began to fester, I pushed them to the back of my mind where they couldn't bother me anymore. "If anything, it was . . . prostitution. We both got good things from the deal. It was a win-win situation."

Blinking a sheet of tears from her eyes, she said bitterly under her breath, "I don't feel like I won a damn thing."

I wanted to comfort her, but something stopped me. The same part of me so protective over Leon. I simply . . . couldn't, not after what she said about him. And that was Leon exited our hotel room. "Come on, you two. It's around dinner time. Why don't we bury the hatchet and grab a bite to eat?"

And cue to one of the most awkward dinner experiences to have ever plagued my life. _One_ of the most, mind you. The Mikaelson family massacre took the cake- no, _shredded_ the cake. Surely nothing could be worse than _that_ , right? . . . Right? Unless, of course, Jessie and I did in fact join up with the freak show family. Then there'd _definitely_ be more hellishness to sift through.

We ended at some bar-restaurant situation called "Rousseau's." It was very New Orleans-y, if you will- a live band was playing up front and a horde of people swayed in tune of the jazzy melodies.

Jessie was looking at Leon in such a murderous way she looked about ready to beat him to death with the red, plastic basket of fries. She didn't even touch the food Leon bought her. "You know, Jessie," he ground out through a mouthful of cheeseburger, and Jessie grimaced in disgust, "you ought to mind that little attitude of yours. It's unbecoming on such a beautiful woman."

She didn't even blink at his hastily thrown in complement. "Woman? I just turned fifteen. Does that make me a woman?"

He clasped his hands on the table, and smiled a coy, knowing little grin. " _I_ made you a woman." _That_ most certainly was not the right thing to say.

"Go fuck yourself," she spat, making moves to get up from the table before he reached over and grasped her firmly by the arm. I winced on her behalf; he had an iron-clad grip. "Let _go_ of me before I make a scene."

"You _watch_ yourself." He wasn't jovial in the slightest anymore. "Or would you like me to remind you?" Her eyes blazed green fire, and I knew I had no other choice but to intervene.

"Hey, Jessie, why don't we check out the band?" Not giving either of them a chance to protest, I wiggled out of the table and yanked my twin along with me. "You need to chill out," I hissed into her ear once we arrived at the bar counter, a safe distance away from the table. "You know he doesn't tolerate that kind of rubbish."

She furiously pulled her arm out of my hold. "I don't tolerate _his_ rubbish anymore. Why do you always have to take his side? I'm your _sister_."

I threw my hands up in the air. "Everything's been so much harder and more complicated ever since we met Klaus Mikaelson." It was so easy to blame everything on him, but it wasn't _entirely_ fair.

"You know Klaus Mikaelson?" a feminine voice asked in surprise, and we spun around to almost smack into an attractive blonde-haired, angular-faced woman. "He's my . . . friend. If you don't mind me asking, what business does he have with the two of you? You're both young."

I was mulling over how likely it was that Klaus was banging this woman- my predictions pointed to yes- so Jessie answered for me, but she didn't waste a single second on acknowledging anything the blonde asked. "Who are _you_?" I shook my head and sighed. Everyone must've thought that she was born and raised in a barn.

Camille recoiled slightly, but she didn't take much offense. "Camille O'Connell. I've known Klaus for a few years now-"

Jessie's ADHD must've kicked in full-force, because she completely blew off Camille and zoned in on the ending notes of the band's last song. "It's open mic night, isn't it?"

Camille's pretty features tightened in annoyance, but she plastered on a smile. "Yeah, actually. Do you two sing?"

The grin glued onto Jessie's face could've blinded the sun itself. "Hell yeah we do. C'mon, Amy, _please_! Let's go up there!"

Our duos _were_ something special, and singing with my sister had to be one of my favorite things in the whole wide world. I squashed back my inhibitions and nodded. "Let's do this thing."

As we raced over to the stage, Jessie told me to pick the song, and as soon as we arrived, I inquired of the band, "Do you guys know "Something Bad"? By Miranda Lambert and Carrie Underwood? It's pretty recent." Their hums of approval were my answer. I turned to face Jessie. "I'll do Miranda's part, and you do Carrie's, okay?"

I scanned the audience for Leon's face, and melted at his encouraging smile and nod. He always supported me. In the back corner, strangely enough, I even saw Kol and Davina, who were both watching us intently. As usual, Kol was smirking away. The band started playing the music chords, and I sucked in a deep breath of preparation. _Now or never_. Jessie and I met gazes, and began together. "Stand on the bar, stomp your feet, start clapping! Got a good feeling something bad about to happen . . ."

Our voices meshed beautifully together. Mine was low and husky, often serving as the main melody, and hers was high, clear, and bell-like, well-suited to harmonizing. We could both belt out our notes, though. I sank into the familiarity of singing, and finally allowed myself a smile. "Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!"

Jessie ducked behind me as I took center stage, the audience already starting a clap of rhythm. "Pulled up to the church but I got so nervous, had to back it on up, couldn't make it to the service. Grabbed all the cash underneath my mattress," I adorned my proudest smirk, a gesture worthy of Kol's admiration, "got a real good feelin' something bad about to happen!"

Jessie twirled in front of me with the loud presence of a true stage performer. "Ran into a girl in a pretty white dress," she expertly pumped her shoulders in rhythm with the song, "rolled down a window, where you heading to next?" She was meant for this; this was her destiny. "Said I'm heading to the bar with my money out the mattress, got a real good feeling something bad about to happen . . ." Jessie was really laying on the seductive voice, so I challenged myself to match her.

We positioned ourselves back to back, both of us propping our legs in such an angle for enhanced sexiness, each stomping a foot to the beat. "Stand on the bar, stomp your feet, start clapping! Got a real good feeling something about to happen . . . Drinks keep coming, throw my head back _laughing_ ," we slipped in a giggle for laugh, "wake up in the morning, don't know what _happened_." How strange it was when life imitated art . . . "Whoooooooaaa . . . something bad, whoaaaaaaaa . . . something bad."

As she often did by the second verse, Jessie leaped straight off the stage and walked into the cheering crowd. Kol, Davina, and Leon were perhaps our most enthusiastic supporters.

Jessie approached a table full of young, handsome, eager men and leaned in close, close enough for her chest to stick out prominently and for her long, blue-streaked waves of hair to pool onto the scratched wood of the table. If possible, the men whooped even louder. She ruffled one's hair and planted a coy kiss on another's cheek. "Now me and that girl that I met on the street, we're rollin' down the road, down to New Orleans," much applause for the call-out, "got a full tank of gas and the money out the mattress, got a real good feelin' something bad about to _happen_!" She released the last word with much gusto and force, her soprano voice trembling with a well-practiced vibrato.

I couldn't be outdone, now could I? With as much class as I could muster, I hopped off the stage and strutted down the aisle, my hips swaying with every step. Leon's hungry eyes bore a hole in me, and I shivered in anticipation. "'Bout to tear it up down in New Orleans," I drawled "New Orleans" in a thick Southern accent, "just like a real-life Thelma and Louise. If the cops catch up, they're gonna call it _kidnapping_ , got a real good feelin' something bad about to happen!" I pushed out the words deep from my diaphragm, and they bounced off the walls, echoing even after the last syllable left my lips.

Jessie was a competitive little minx. Using a bar stool as a platform, she jumped straight onto the bar itself, gaining a whole new kind of reception from the male audience with her short, dark blue, leather mini-skirt and her lacy black stockings on display. Not to mention her tight, black, long-sleeved shirt with midriff on display. And ankle-high heeled boots to match. And people called _me_ the slut. But _damn_ if that wasn't a cute outfit.

And right on time for the chorus. "Stand on the bar, stomp your feet, start clapping," yes, she did all three, "got a real good feeling something bad about to happen! Drinks keep coming, throw my head back laughing, wake up in the morning don't _know_ what happened! Whooooaaaaaa . . . something bad. Whoooooaaaaaaa . . . something bad."

For the finish, I climbed up onto the bar myself, and garnered some leers. I was sporting a tight, lacy red dress falling to my mid-thigh, with red stilettos and lipstick to match. All courtesy to Leon. Jessie and I faced each other and with matching grins, sang the last part together, "Stand on the bar, stomp your feet, start clapping! Got a real good feeling something bad about to happen! Now the drinks keep coming, throw my head back laughing, wake up in the morning don't know what happened!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!" Jessie belted out with her fist in the air and hops coinciding with each word. The men in the audience roared their approval.

"Whoooooaaaaaa . . . something bad. Whooooooaaaaaaa . . . something bad."

Hand in hand, we each jumped off the bar, and thankfully, our ankles didn't shatter into a million pieces. Boys flocked around the both of us, but I headed straight to Leon. His warm lips enveloped mine, and he swung me around, but I gently pushed him off before Kol or Davina could notice. _That_ would be a bit tough to explain. Leon was a good ten years older than me.

"Let's get out of here," he growled into my ear, and I turned to see Jessie willingly mingling with the gaggle of guys. I didn't want to leave her. Not my little sister. She was sensitive, and she'd take it personally, especially since we insisted for her to come with us. "C'mon, Amy," he spun me back to face him, "forget about her. Come with me." He planted slow, sensual kisses down my neck and I couldn't resist the temptation to run away with him.

He started to pull me toward the doorway and I let him. Jessie had broken free of the crowd, and I flinched as I heard her bellow after me, "Amy!" She sounded happy. "Amy, wait, meet your new fans!" A shiver trailed through my spine as footsteps pounded after me. "Amy?"

I looked back at her, only to see her bright green eyes wide with confusion and the beginnings of disappointment. "Are you _leaving_?" Her eyes shone wetter than usual. _She's so touchy today . . ._ "We finally got to spend some quality time together and," she barked out a bitter laugh, "you're leaving with _him_."

I opened my mouth and closed it like fish. And something I was ashamed to admit, I couldn't find it in me to affirm her accusations, so I allowed Leon to drag me out the door. And the last thing I saw before the door slammed shut was her face collapsing with hurt.

 **A/N: So, there it is. What do you think? Like it, love it, hate it? What's going on with Amy and Leon? Why's she so attached to him, when Jessie can see him for who he really is? We'd love some feedback, and we'll be updating soon with a chapter almost solely dedicated to Kol and Jessie!**


	12. Always and Forever: The Encore

**A/N: First off, thank you so, so much for the reviews and all of your kind words! I (Goldie) really appreciate your support about my depression; it means more to me than you could ever know. I recently turned sixteen, and I'm trying to get better, one step at a time.**

 **You all essentially hit the nail on the head when it came to Amy and Leon. Leon has a plethora of secrets up his sleeve that we'll reveal soon enough, and she's unhealthily attached to him. Stockholm Syndrome? Wait and see ;).**

 **We told you this would be a quick update period, and we kept our promise :D. And we promised you a chapter almost entirely of Kol and Jessie, and again, here's a shout-out to our lovely reviewer "Savily" for giving us the idea of their own special vow. This one's for you :). Please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much :D.**

 **Disclaimer: We own nothing but our OCs. We do not own the song "Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey, either. And yes, Kol's heard of it in the couple years he'd been alive again, whether in his witchy or vampire body.**

 **Warnings: Underage drinking (surprise surprise, lol).**

 **Chapter 12: Always and Forever: The Encore**

 **Jessica's Perspective**

Yippee ki fucking yay. The nice little pep talk Elijah awarded me with the night before now seemed utterly void and meaningless. It was pretty damn obvious to me how low I placed on Amy's list of priorities. 1) Leon. 2) Sex with Leon. 3) Any of Leon's whims and fancies. 4) Sex in general. 5) Drinking. 100) Yours truly.

And tonight, of all nights, number 2 was more important than me. First, the two of them had to drag me out here with Leon's weird ménage à trois fantasies. Like, no thanks, I'd rather horde myself up in our motel room and listen to punk rock and scroll around Tumblr. Which I did quite often, without the motel room, of course.

But no, I listened to them, and I legitimately had a decent time. I loved singing and performing in front of a crowd, but even more than that, I loved my duets with Amy. And with Kol watching entertained in the background with Davina, everything was all the more perfect.

Until I suddenly wasn't good enough again, and she ditched me for her perverted lover boy/foster father. Whatever, I didn't need those two arseholes. Yet even _I_ could spot my own lie a mile away as I huddled up in a dark corner booth and sipped broodingly at my booze. There was only one thing that could help me now. One _person_ , really. And that, ladies and gentleman and others, was Kol Mikaelson.

"If it isn't my favorite niece," Kol greeted, all happy-go-lucky, as he slid in beside me without Davina. "What's with the sad face?" He bopped me on the nose. "You're far too pretty to develop frown lines, darling."

"Favorite niece?" I purposefully evaded, but I did enjoy the compliment. "What about, oh, I don't know, _Hope_?"

His expression froze over, and he looked to be mentally kicking himself. _Ha, I made you uncomfortable._ "Oh, yes . . . I am undyingly fond of the child, don't get me wrong, and she does worship me, so she has good taste, but she's too little to have any proper fun with. And while you're at it . . . don't tell Nik, he's ever so temperamental these days. And every day in the history of forever."

"Cheers to that," I smirked, taking another swig of my beer. Yeah, I decided to take it easy tonight. The place was so crowded, it wasn't hard to ask one of the guys to buy me a drink. "Where's Davina? We could have a little party."

He scrunched up his nose in distaste. "Ah, Marcel called in for a witchy favor of some sort. Good news there, your Uncle Kol is free for the rest of the night." He eyed my nearly empty beer. "Jessie, I _know_ you can do better than that. You're not my favorite niece for no reason. And after that outstanding performance, such a light drink will not cut it."

I wasn't ever somebody's favorite _anything_. Not even Amy's. She tolerated me until she met Leon at the ripe age of eleven, and he became the #1 in her life. So, Kol's careless words touched me more than he could ever imagine. "Amy and her date ditched me for the night, so I'm unattached and fancy-free. Hit me!"

Impish grin intact, he scooted from the booth only to return a few moments later with a tray of shot glasses. It befuddled me how quickly he found those, but he likely charmed them away from that judgy blonde bartender who knew Klaus somehow. "Drink with me, darling. Don't let anybody bring you down- you're too good for them."

Smiling, I accepted one of the shot glasses, and clicking it with his, downed it and let the burning sensation travel down my throat. Tequila, the ultimate creator of hangovers. "I'll have another."

"Thatta girl!"

It was all a little crazy after that, but it was one of the best experiences of my life. For the first time in forever, I truly belonged somewhere. I belonged with Kol- not romantically, you pervs. He was . . . my platonic soulmate.

"Bottoms up!" Giggling madly, we poured another shot (I totally lost count of which) into each other's mouths. Since we were a wee bit jumbled, though, some of the liquor didn't make it past our lips. "See," Kol slurred in satisfaction, "you aren't Miss Pouty Face any longer. Not with _me_ you aren't. We don't need them. Any of them." Surprising element; when utterly hammered, Kol opened up like a teenage girl's diary. "Not Davina, Davina's on my side, but the rest of them can waltz _straight_ into hell. Elijah's bloody suits and all. Dry-cleaning _indeed._ "

"You couldn't be more right if you tried!" I snuggled against his shoulder and used him as a pillow. He didn't mind- that, or he was too drunk to move me. "Which, you are trying. Or you're not. I dunno. You do you, boo boo. Anywho, we don't need them. Nope, nope, nope-ity, nope. They're all against us. They don't . . . _understand_ us."

"Exactly!" Kol gulped down another shot; there weren't many left, in fact, our table was filled almost from edge to edge with empty shot glasses. I had a fair few, but most were from my heavy-hitter uncle. "You understand _me_ , I understand _you_. For a thousand bloody years, it's always been them. Elijah, Nik, Bekah. Terrific trio. Their little "Always and forever" club that didn't extend to the _rest_ of the family." Unmistakable bitterness fueled his tone.

My heart ached for the poor soul, and since my inhibitions were gone, I sloppily wrapped my arms around him in a hug. He pressed his cheek down onto my hair, and I received a face blast of stinky liquor breath. "Amy _resents_ me. She'd do anything to get rid of me. She drops me for anything else, especially her stupid boy toy who's a _dick_. If I dropped dead, she'd celebrate by screwing him all night long and it would be even better 'cause I couldn't barge right in. Fuck them. _Fuck them_."

"You don't need those traitors," he all but growled in my ear. "We don't need them, not one bloody bit. The lot of them- they pretend to care, tell pretty lies when the time's right, but they _don't_ care. You ought to get used to it. You're like _me_. And if they can't stand me, then you're in the same predicament." He drunkenly stumbled over the syllables. "Not like dear sweet Amy who's Elijah's new beloved prodigy. Everyone loves Elijah. Everyone _needs_ Elijah. You're like _me_. So, darling, prepare to be the second black sheep of the family."

Klaus's blonde bitch, Camille, arrived at our table, and damn if she didn't look too pleased. "Look, Kol, I don't know you well. But I know Klaus. And _she_ ," she pointed right at me and I used Kol as a human- _vampire_ shield, "is clearly underage. She shouldn't be drinking right now. You two need to cool it." She looked right at me. "What are you, fourteen? Fifteen?"

Kol was up on his feet in a flash, and black veins stretched and pulsed beneath his eyes. "Ah, Nik's little _pet_." She stiffened in obvious fear. "You're quite delectable, it's easy to tell what he sees in you." I snickered as he took in a long whiff of her scent. "Not bad. A bit bland, perhaps, but you'll have to do. I could use a midnight _snack_."

Camille clenched her jaw and straightened her spine. "Klaus would hunt you down. It wouldn't be worth it. He's your brother, why would you hurt him like that?"

His good mood dissipated almost as quickly as it formed. Slamming his fists down on our table and creating a crack straight through it, he all but shouted in her face, "He's been hurting _me_ for centuries! Sticking a dagger in my chest whenever he's fed up with my presence. It's about damn time somebody returned the favor!"

I figured I ought to step in before he snapped her in half, although that would be quite a sight to behold. I slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow. "Come on, _Uncle_ Kol." I plastered on my best smirk at Camille's expression of shock and horror. "This place is dead anyway. Let's bounce, and go have some _real_ fun."

Stretching apart his lips into a nasty sneer directed toward the frozen blonde, he led me toward the exit. "You're absolutely right, _niece._ "

We snickered in musical synchronization at her face as we left. Showed her; not only is it unwise to mess with the psychopaths, but don't mess with the _drunk_ psychopaths.

Kol ended up what he called compelling his way through a liquor store, and we stocked up on a multitude of mini bottles of the hard stuff. And _then_ , for some strange reason, we ended up on a rooftop. Don't really remember _that_ one. It was a nice roof, though. Other than the fact there was a plastic baggie of marijuana in one of the corners. I stashed that in my pocket for later. Kol owned a bong, apparently. How nice. That would come into use soon enough.

"Dooooooon't stooooooop . . . believiiiiiiiin'!" I half-sang, half-shouted at the top of my lungs. I danced around in irregular circles, and the lights and stars swirled around me as one big blur. Kol clapped his hands in an unsteady beat, cheering me on. "Hold onto that feeeEEEEEEliiiing!"

"Streeeeeeeeeeeetliiiiiiiiight _people_ ," Kol bellowed the second after I finished. I must've inherited my singing voice from him, because damn, he was genuinely _good_. "Whoaaaaaaaa, _whoaaaaaaaaaaa_!"

"Doooon't _stooop_ believin'! Hold ooooOOOOOOOnnnnnn . . . !"

It was the time for our fantastical duet, and we made sure every neighborhood in our radius could hear us _loud_ and _clear_. "Streeeeetlight peeeoople! Oooooh, whooOOOOaaaa! Doooon't stop believin', hold onto that feeeeeeliiiiin', streetlight peeeoooople!"

Since we just completed a rather astounding feat for our drunken selves, we flattered ourselves immensely on our performance. "Good job, mate!" I practically yelled in his ear.

"Why thank you, I _was_ rather spectacular. You weren't half bad yourself. At least you have musical talent. You got that from me, mind you, and don't think otherwise. You should hear Niklaus. He has no sense of pitch. Rebekah sounds like a dying cat falling off the Empire State Building." He thought it over. "Elijah's not horrendous, although I haven't heard him sing for centuries. Enough talking about them, though, they bore me."

A bizarre, muddled thought entered my brain, and I couldn't shake it out. It was what Kol said about his family's "Always and forever" vow, and how he wasn't allowed in it. It was so painfully unfair and relatable, I damn near cried over it. And that was when I made my decision. We didn't need them. We would make our _own_ vow.

Grasping one of our stray liquor bottles in one hand, I smashed it against the cement and watched it shatter into a million pieces. It would come into use soon enough. "Kol Mikaelson, we're going to create our own vow."

His warm brown eyes lit up like the brightest stars in the sky. "Jessica Kaslova, that's an inspired idea."

I hurried over to him, staggering along the way, and stood right in front of him. "Kol, you and I will stay together as best friends, partners in crime, uncle and niece for _always_ and _forever_. As the outsiders . . ."

His lips curled back into a pointy, toothy smile. "When the people we love leave us behind, reject us, _abandon_ us, we will remain together. Always and forever."

Thick emotion coursed tremors through my tone, and I couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or not. "If the world burns around us-"

He continued, "And there's nothing left but ashes and rubble-"

"I won't leave your side," I finished for him, and he beamed wider than I'd ever seen him.

"And _I_ will not leave _yours_. If the world burns around us, together, we will dance in the fire."

"Sing with the flames," I mused.

"Side by side."

I grabbed one of the shards of the bottle and used it to slit a decent-sized cut into my palm, flinching as the crimson liquid bubbled up to the surface. Kol's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to question me, but I explained, "We'll swear an oath on it with our blood, this way, it can _never_ be broken."

Nodding in fervent understanding, he extended his vampire canines and bit into his palm. Simultaneously, we clutched each other's bloody hand, and shook on it, the both of us reciting one last time: "We will stay together . . . _always and forever_."

 **Klaus's Perspective**

Never before did I imagine standing near a baggage claim in a crowded airport waiting for my biological father who'd been dead for a thousand years, and only alive for a couple. The swarm of people appeared enticingly appetizing at the very moment. Perhaps I could snack on a few and compel the rest. But then there were the cameras, and I'd have to either compel or kill the security team. It wouldn't necessarily be a problem if I wasn't short for time. Maybe if-

A low utterance of, "Klaus," caught my attention. Ansel was standing right in front of me, his luggage bag on wheels behind him and his carry-on strapped over his shoulder. I was too distracted thinking about murdering humans, I didn't notice him arrive. "It's good to see you." I couldn't tell if he was lying or not, but I tensed up when he patted me on the shoulder. "How're you holding up?"

"The twins haven't plotted my downfall _yet_ , so I suppose that's a fair sign-" The ringing of my cell phone interrupted me, and I frowned when I saw Camille as the caller ID. Ansel nodded graciously for me to answer it, and I did, albeit grudgingly.

"Klaus, we have a problem," was the first thing to come out of her mouth. I raised an eyebrow, as did Ansel, almost identically. With his keen werewolf senses, he could hear her perfectly. "I just ran into your brother."

"Which one?" I asked impatiently, then it dawned on me. "If there's a problem, I assume it's Kol."

"Yeah, it's Kol." Well, who else would be creating a scene, Elijah? Please. And Finn was too boring. "He was at Rousseau's a few minutes ago, he just left. He was pounding shots with a blonde girl who looked too young to be drinking. A teenager- young one, too. Fourteen, fifteen, maybe? What's weird, though, she called him her _uncle_ , and he called her his _niece_."

 _Oh for the love of_ \- "Did you hear her name?" I queried after mentally stewing over the information for a few moments. Ansel's eyebrows now mingled with his hairline. Now he knew I wasn't lying about the bombshell twins dropped onto my life.

"No, but what the hell did he mean by _niece_? Hope's his niece, that's it, and I don't understand-"

"What did she look like?" I cut her off, having no time for explanations. I had a strong inkling as to which twin was with Kol, but I had to make absolute sure.

"Um . . . long waves of blonde hair, blue streaks-"

"Jessica," I growled in conclusion. It wasn't a surprise, but it still wasn't gratifying to hear. "How drunk were they?"

"Extremely. They left an entire table full of empty shot glasses, although I'm sure your brother downed most of them." The likeliest scenario, he could assuredly hold his drinks. "But she was pretty screwed up too, Klaus. I figured I ought to call you, because I have no idea where they went after Kol jumped down my throat and essentially threatened to kill me."

The reasons were piling up why he needed a good daggering for a few years. Cami was _off_ _limits_ , and frankly, so was getting wasted with my _fifteen-year-old_ daughter. "Bloody hell. I'll handle this. Thank you for telling me, now if you'll excuse me, I have a brother to murder." I abruptly ended the call.

"How about you lead us to your car, I drive, and you call your miscreant of a brother?" Ansel offered right away. Normally, I would refuse, because the alpha wolf inside of me wanted to be the driver and dominant in all aspects of life, but then again, I _did_ have a brother to verbally abuse and emotionally ravage, so there was that. I relented, and led him to my car.

As Ansel pulled out from the parking lot, I called Kol and impatiently waited for him to pick up. He did, after I called him _seven_ times. In my mind, I was mentally tallying up his misdirections and how they would pertain to time in his coffin. "Brother dear! My my, aren't you persistent! Oh, you've never liked to be ignored. A trait I do share with you." His words were slurred and behind the cheer was a certain malice directed towards me that, in his sober state, he was better at crafting behind charm and snark. "Are you not busy at the moment, picking up that canine of yours? He better be house-trained." A muscle in Ansel's jaw tensed considerably.

Kol had despised werewolves for a millennium now, ever since Henrik's death. Needless to say, when he was told the news of Ansel's oncoming arrival, he wasn't pleased. But since he was already on my bad side for corrupting my daughter, a few well-timed dagger threats settled the dispute- for now.

"Camille told me everything."

There was a smile in his voice. "Ah, I assumed she would. I didn't get to drink any of her blood, unfortunately. She _did_ smell good. I had better things to do, though."

That arrogant, smarmy little bastard. "You're not to touch a single blonde hair on her head, or you'll regret the day you were conceived."

"Temper, temper!" Kol knew exactly how and where to push my buttons. As did Elijah and Rebekah. I'd spent far too much time with them over the centuries. At least Kol traveled extensively; he could never settle down. "Of course, there are _your_ priorities. A human pet in favor of your brother. Nonetheless, I had a fun evening with your _daughter_. She's a lot more fun than you could ever be, Nik. If Freya hadn't done the test ten times, I would be doubtful of her relations to you. I suppose she takes after you _physically_ at least, but that's where it ends, thankfully."

"She turned fifteen a month ago, Kol!" I all but shouted at him. "You should not have been drinking with her. Would it kill you to be responsible once in your miserable lifetime?"

"Yes, it would," he deadpanned. "In fact, there are the only two things that can kill me. The white oak stake, and responsibility." His voice raised, and it sounded like he was yelling to somebody- Jessica, presumably. "Isn't that right, darling? Responsibility is for ponces!" She was far enough away and drunk enough to where I couldn't decipher her response. "Niklaus is on the other end, isn't that a dream? Oh believe you me, I know you don't want to talk to him. Neither do I, sweet niece of mine, but it looks like this is how my life turned out."

If only he were here, then I could rip his throat out. Ansel was glancing over at me out of the corner of his eye in something akin to sympathy. It wasn't easy to have a brother like Kol. Nor a bratty little sister like Rebekah. Nor a preachy older brother like Elijah. Nor a burden like Finn. Freya hadn't done much to wrong me, yet. But Kol had been a sharp pain in my side for a thousand years now, and it wasn't about to change today.

I made my decision. "Put her on the phone, brother, and I'll consider lessening your coffin sentence."

"Well, for that little jab, I don't think so, brother dear! Why don't you stop focusing your energy on stabbing your siblings, and put a little more energy in learning how to approach your newfound daughters? Yelling at her over the phone won't fix that. You'll need to figure that one out. Neither of them are your biggest fans. Good luck with that!" And with that, my current least favorite sibling hung the phone.

"Damn it," I growled, viciously shoving my cell phone back into my pocket. The airport wasn't particularly close to the French quarter, so I wouldn't be back as soon as I would've hoped. In my mind, there was only one more option. The more reliable brother, who picked up on the first ring.

"Yes, Niklaus?" He sounded mildly exasperated, as if he hadn't wanted to take my phone call in the first place. By now, though, he knew not to ignore me. "You are taking your father home, are you not? I find it difficult to believe you've already found a problem you must unleash on those closest to you." Ansel snorted, and I cast him the death glare of a millennia.

"Hello to you too, 'Lijah," I grumbled into the receiver. "I've called to ask a favor of you."

"And why am I not surprised?"

"Kol's taken out Jessica for the evening, and they're both heavily intoxicated. Find them, brother. You best find our baby brother before I do, brother, or my dagger is going straight through his heart."

There was a long silence on the other end, but evidently, he pushed away his long-held grudges against me. "I'll find them, brother. I give you my word." He hung up on me, and I found myself relaxing, if not only a fraction. Elijah never broke his word. He would find my daughter, and keep her safe, that much I knew.

 **Jessie's Perspective**

I shouldn't have drank anymore booze, but it's me we're talking about. Do I look like I make good life choices? If you just said yes, you haven't been paying any attention. I'm a walking disaster, thank you very much.

Kol and I stumbled down the streets of the French quarter, holding onto each other for dear life. There were a few ill-timed, near-falls thrown in there, and thus, we had to hold each other up. Still, even though he drank much more, he could hold his liquor better than me. And that was saying something, because I had a bloody high tolerance.

But it also explained why my stomach started churning, and nausea spread itself through my entire body. Man, I hadn't been sick from booze for a _long_ time. I guess I drank more than usual. "I'm gonna be sick," I moaned, and my knees buckled out from under me, where I proceeded to vomit all over the sidewalk. My head pounded like nothing else, and I retched again, shivering and sweating feverishly. Kol had the coherence to grab a handful of my hair, which was fortunate, since I was in too intoxicated to even remember. "Kol, I don't feel good," I whined, dropping my head down onto a cool portion of the sidewalk I hadn't already puked on.

"I can see that, darling." The bastard had the nerve to sound amused. "Are you finished, or will we need to stay here a good portion of the night?"

I was attempting to croak out "I'm fine" when I lost control and emptied another section of my stomach, coughing and spitting and beginning to cry. My emotions were all over the place, but at least it distracted me from my physical ailments. I rolled onto my back and squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to block out the rest of the world.

"Darling, you ought to lay on your side, because you wouldn't want to suffocate if the need to lose your dinner arises again." I painstakingly followed his directions.

"Ah, Kol, there you are." Deep, smooth, silky voice. It was Elijah. Why did the world hate me? It was like the universe wanted Elijah to see me in the most vulnerable positions manageable. Next, it would probably be me slipping and almost dying in the shower, and him being my unwanted savior. 'Cause the universe hated me. "And I believe that's our little niece, laying beside a puddle of her own vomit. You're not the most suitable chaperone, are you?"

Nobody would insult Kol and get away with it. "Hey," I blubbered out before allowing Kol a chance to retort. Using his arm as a balance rail, I pulled myself to my feet. "It's not his f-fault." My words were slurred nearly past recognition, and my legs failed me once more. Kol had to catch me before I connected with the ground. "I'm gonna die," I whimpered into his arms.

My head was pulsing so loudly I couldn't quite make out their quick, barely audible quarrel, but it ended soon enough. A different pair of arms hooked under my knees and supported my back and head, like one would cradle a baby. If I threw up on Elijah's suit, I would die of embarrassment. And alcohol poisoning, at this point. They were still talking as we moved along, but Elijah's chest muffled most of the words. "She's a child, brother," I heard him hiss, "do not take advantage of her fragile emotional state." I'd show _him_ fragile! Aw screw it, I was fragile, at least this drunk out of my mind.

This was turning out to be a very bad day. Using Elijah's chest as a makeshift pillow, I tried to use the rhythm of his stride to lull me to sleep, but a woman's shrill cry startled me awake not soon after. "Elijah, you found her!"

"Unfortunately, Rebekah, she does not seem to be entirely here." His voice sounded so, so far away . . . I wanted to sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. _Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutup._

"Bloody hell, how much did she _drink_?"

"Oh save your judgement, Bekah, it's not like you haven't been in her position a thousand times before!"

"Yes, I have, Kol, and I owe you thanks for many of those incidents! She's a child, brother, how did you think shoving booze down her throat was a good idea?"

"Stop harping, will you? I hardly shoved it down her throat. In fact, she was more than willing to spend time with me, unlike you lot. Heaven forbid I find myself an _ally_ in this family, or even worse, a _friend_!"

I slipped back into a deep slumber with a smile on my face.

 **Klaus's Perspective**

I stormed into the compound with Ansel hot on my heals. After a head's up from Elijah, I was a shark out for blood. The first thing I saw was Jessica curled up onto a little ball on the couch, asleep. Mascara was smeared over her face from previous tears, and the distinctive tang of hard liquor and vomit wafted from her. _Damn you, Kol_.

Elijah and the aforementioned brother sat across from each other in armchairs, each shifted protectively near Jessica to assist her if the need arose. Rebekah rested beside the girl, combing her fingers through her niece's wild, tangled waves with a sisterly affection. Growling under my breath, I blurred past the lot of them, and knelt in front of the unconscious teenager. I was only grateful that Hayley had Hope with her.

Sighing, I smoothed a stray lock of hair from her face. She looked so much younger when she was asleep, more innocent. As if she were at peace. She should have never been introduced to this lifestyle. _Damn you, Viktoria_. If Viktoria hadn't abandoned the twins, then perhaps Jessica would not be laying here now, drunken into oblivion. And perhaps . . . I could have known them, watched them grow up. She wasn't entirely grown up yet, at least. I had that saving grace left.

Quicker than a flash of lightning, I grabbed Kol by the throat, and slammed him into the nearest wall. " _You_ did this!"

Kol used my own weight against me and shoved me backwards, brown eyes vicious and ruthless. "I _care_ about her! I spent _time_ with her! Can you lot say the same?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I didn't _think_ so. I'm the only one here who actually cares about the girl!"

Surprisingly, it was Elijah who took offense to that. "You have _no_ idea what you're talking about," he all but spat in Kol's direction, jabbing a finger into his shoulder.

Kol didn't falter in the face of his older brother's disapproving anger. "Don't I?"

Something in Elijah snapped. "Were you the one there when she attempted to throw herself off a building two nights ago?"

My heart nearly stopped in my chest as Rebekah gasped. When she-? Two nights ago was after our unfortunate family dinner. Ansel's reassuring hand on my shoulder was the only thing that kept me upright. "What in the bloody hell are you talking about, brother?"

Now his face creased with deep regret; he must have told her he wouldn't mention it to anyone else. "She was . . . distraught. It wasn't simply the dinner, there was another factor she neglected informing me of. I joined her on the edge, she attempted to step off, and if I hadn't taken hold of her . . ."

My world spun off its axis twice in one week. First, finding out I had two more daughters in the first place, and now one of them attempted suicide. "You should've told me," I whispered, unable to muster a volume above that.

The blood had drained from Kol's face, and without another word, darted out of the compound likely in search of more alcohol to drown out his raging emotions. Now, seeing Jessica lying there, so vulnerable . . . She and her twin sister fancied parading around as adults. But this was the first time I saw she was truly only a lost, misguided little girl. She was _my_ little girl.

I scooped her up from under her knees and back, cradling her to my chest as if she was a mere infant. Her hands instinctively clutched clumps of fabric from my shirt. Ansel was the only one to follow me as I carried her up the stairs and to one of our many guest rooms.

"I'm sorry, Klaus. I know how hard it must've been to hear that." The words died fresh in my throat as I peeled back the covers, pulling her boots off and tucking her in as I would Hope. "She needs you."

That very second, I vowed to stand vigil for her for the rest of the night, in case her heavy alcohol consumption arose further negative effects. So, I dragged a chair up to her bed, and sat, my eyes glued to her sleeping form. Ansel quietly exited the room, understanding.

And several hours later, when I held her hair back as her body forced her into a vomiting fit for the upteenth time, it truly struck me. This was my daughter, and she needed me.

 **A/N: Welp, we promised you a Jessie-Kol chapter. How'd you like it? And yes, they do uphold their vow and become BFFs. It's a bunch of fun to write, haha. Klaus is finally feeling some emotions! But, as we know, he doesn't tend to know how to _handle_ such feelings, and next chapter he gloriously screws it up. We have that almost all written, so the update will be soon! :) And remember, we love feedback ;). **


	13. Don't Look Back

**A/N: Hey, all! Thank you so much for the continued support! This is the chapter where Klaus invariably screws everything up, and where the plot picks up. There's a big reveal at the end, and some interesting scenes in the chapter. An inevitable Klaus-Jessie confrontation, and a cringeworthy sex talk/interrogation between Elijah and Amy (that was a lot of fun to write).**

 **Now, we have a message for you all. At the beginning of this fic, we promised Haylijah, but honestly, after a while we got tired of how Hayley strung Elijah along time and time again.**

 **This story will now be Elijah X OC. So, starting next chapter, we created an OC named Belle Whitlock that we poured an enormous amount of time into, carving out her backstory and her placement into New Orleans. Hopefully, you will all like her as much as we do! But that's next chapter, anyway. So, please read, review, and enjoy! Thank you so much! :D**

 **Chapter 13: Don't Look Back**

 **Jessica's Perspective**

I awoke to sunlight straight from the pits of hell. A jackhammer rammed itself repeatedly into my head and I moaned. Ugh, this was the worst hangover I'd had in a _long_ time. The last thing I remembered from the night before was partying with Kol- everything else was a blur.

"Ah, so the beast has finally stirred." It sounded like Klaus. I did not need to deal with a British arsehole so early in the morning. Especially _that_ British arsehole. "It's four in the afternoon, love. I thought you might sleep the entire day away." Holy shite, it _was_ Klaus. What did I do to deserve this?

Groaning, I blinked away any residual blurriness, and was startled by my surroundings. A large, classic bedroom with mahogany furniture and tasteful decorations. I was draped by blankets and sheets that felt like _silk_ , and the mattress may as well have been a cloud straight from the skies of heaven. But . . . how did I _get_ here? "Where the hell am I?"

The smug bastard was slumped backwards in a wooden desk chair, his hands clasped together, and a wicked smirk blessing his equally wicked face. "You honestly don't remember?"

A pang of sickness made me pout. "No, I don't."

He leaned forward in his seat and propped his elbows up on his denim-clothed knees. "Kol allowed you to become so hammered you couldn't walk straight and unfortunately stayed up half the night violently emptying the contents of your stomach."

My cheeks burned bright, and I absentmindedly covered myself better with the sheets. "Why're _you_ in here?"

His eyebrows steadily creeped up. "Who do you think held your hair?"

 _Holy shit_. Niklaus Mikaelson, thousand year-old vampire murderous freakoid, held a teenage girl's hair as she barfed. I'd never been more humiliated in my entire life. Not even when I accidentally almost hooked up with the husband of half-sister's mother. This was not turning out to be a good week! "Um, thanks . . . Well, I'll get out of _your_ hair, and head back to the motel."

He outright scoffed in my face. "Do you honestly think I'll allow you to live on your own after the unfortunate partaking of yesterday night?"

Wait, what? I balked, a flicker of my previous attitude returning. " _Allow_ me? You and what authority?"

He stood straight from his chair, knocking it over backwards in his haste. His stormy eyes flared blue fire. "Normally, I would base that on my authority of being an Original, thousand year-old hybrid. But, in this case, I'm going to pinpoint it to the fact that I'm your _father_." The sarcasm dripping from his words was _fatal_.

Oh, so _now_ he was my father? Y'all know I was never one to back down from an argument, so . . . He was practically _begging_ to spark one up. It wasn't like I could deny him, right? He was my _father_ after all. I stripped the sheets off me and hopped in front of him, slightly disappointed that he stood a good head above me and any intimidation factor I was hoping for disappeared into thin air. Whatever, I may have been a fifteen-year-old scrawny girl with severe abandonment issues and low self-esteem, and he may have been a thousand-year-old vicious vampire, but you know, I could totally take him. I'd fire my self-deprecating humor and defense mechanisms at him, and he'd be a decimated pile of ash.

Let me tell you something. I had a _brilliant_ comeback. In fact, it was earth-shattering. But I refrained from unloading it, because if I did, it'd be such a excruciating burn, it would _kill_ him. So, instead, I chose this: "I don't think that chair deserved that. That was unkind. It's a perfectly good chair. It never did anything to you. I think you should apologize to the chair."

His previous anger melted into confusion. My new motto in winning arguments: confuse, don't abuse. If he was imprisoning me here for however long, which I was certain he was capable of doing, then it was my rightful duty to annoy him into kicking me out. A foolproof plan, if you will.

Until, of course, he uttered this with a perfectly straight face: "I'm torn between spanking you and strangling you. I suppose it depends on my mood." As I stood there, unable to move from the sheer shock value of that statement, he picked up the chair and plopped right back into it, a wicked smirk in place. "Elijah would vehemently approve of the former, that ol' disciplinarian." He barked out a laugh as the blood drained from my face. "In fact, I'm surprised he hasn't suggested it- or, more likely, taken the initiative himself." This was making me hella uncomfortable, and he knew it. That bastard _enjoyed_ it. "The latter, I'll admit, might be a tad excessive for the circumstances."

I had the familiar sensation of wanting to puke my guts out again, out of sheer anxiety, but I swallowed down rising bile. "You're kidding."

There was a twinkle of mirth in his eyes, but also a surety in his posture. He wasn't entirely joking. I was about to snark if he was from the eighteenth freaking century when I remembered he was born in the _tenth_ century. No fucking shit he'd be all weird and old-fashioned. And being fifteen didn't matter to him, I was basically a zygote compared to the time _he_ spent on Earth.

But he was also toying with me and attempting to scare me, so I couldn't tell his true intentions. My mind screamed at me to remove myself from this situation. _AbortAbortAbortAbortAbort!_ "Oh, am I? Ask Marcel what happened after his various misdeeds back in the 1800s. He has many interesting stories to tell."

He had to have picked up on my increased heart rate with his superior hearing, but I refused to display any more weakness. "You're not funny." And with that, I stormed from the room, him hot on my heels. "I'm _leaving_."

A manacle of a grip on my bicep screeched me to a halt. "Like _hell_ you are." His breath was hot in my ear, burning with the thick menace woven between each syllable.

I ripped myself away from him, and hurried down the stairs. "Get your fucking hands off me." He flashed past me and blocked my path the second my feet hit the courtyard.

He was so angry he was practically _growling_. "You're not going anywhere!" he all but roared. I cowered away.

"Niklaus!" My suited uncle appeared out of nowhere, along with the rest of the Original siblings. Kol looked about ready to tear Klaus to pieces. Another man stood along with them, a middle-aged man with rugged good looks, but I didn't recognize him. "Enough of this; you're frightening the girl." His rich, deep dark eyes carried a warning for me, a warning not to rile Klaus up further. I squeezed past the both of them.

"Good!" he shouted in response as I made a beeline for the exit. "She's in dire need of a lesson in _respect_. Just last night she was drunk off her arse, and still, she thinks she's the center of the world." I flinched; that one hit home. My pace slowed.

"Sound a bit familiar, Nik?" Rebekah quipped. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"Oh, keep your fruit to yourself, Bekah," Kol snapped at her. "Jessie is nothing like our bastard brother." I turned around, startled at the support he so readily supplied me with.

"That isn't fair," the middle-aged man said quietly, receiving Kol's full wrath.

"And who the bloody hell are you, then _, Ansel_?! You're a bystander, you don't get to weigh in on our Mikaelson senate meetings!"

I snorted, attention falling back towards me. "If this is a senate meeting, then Klaus is soon to be Julius Caesar. I call dibs on being Brutus."

Kol smiled bitterly at my remark. "Except he stabs all of us, instead."

"Enough of this!" Klaus bellowed, heading straight for me with Elijah attempting to buffer his rage by his side. "You aren't going anywhere! If I have to lock you into the dungeons, and throw away the key, then I'll bloody well do it!"

I froze. A flashback tore through me and I was no longer at the compound.

 _One time when I was seven, an eleven-year-old boy living in one of my many foster homes tried to get me to break into someone's house and steal something with him. I knew the people that lived there; they were nice to me, and had a newborn baby boy._

 _I refused. The boy had called me a coward. We proceeded to argue. He called me a coward about three more times. Long story short, I threw a chair at him. The group mother got to him right after he was groaning on the floor. He wasn't even that hurt, just a bruise on his side. On his ribs, actually, but that's besides the point._

 _Amy and I didn't live in that home too much longer._

 _After the incident, I was locked in a small, compact closet for over a week without food or any access to a bathroom. An entire week I spent in there- seven whole days- in the dark. The cold, never-ending darkness was enough to scar me for a lifetime._

 _I remembered my heart soaring whenever the door would open to push water in, about once a day. The crack of light was a reprieve from the overwhelming darkness._

 _The boy laughed at me through the door. I could have apologized to him, but the woman would have surely kept me in there anyway. And instead of apologizing, all I really wished was I had another chair to throw at him._

 _Amy had been kept away from me the entire time, being constantly watched. It was summer vacation, so she couldn't sneak off to school to make a phone call. Her power, or magic I supposed it was in hindsight, raged out of control and she almost killed the foster mom._

 _Amy had been walking down the hall, supervised, when she heard me slump against the door. The last thing I remembered before blacking out was our foster mom hurtling through a wall._

Seven days with no food, and not much water. That foster mom went to jail, and we were placed into a new home that wasn't much better, but at least I wasn't locked in a closet for a week.

A lot stemmed from that day. One, I have severe claustrophobia. Two, I despise hospitals; I was admitted to one after I fainted, and I was feeling so horrible that a bitter taste in my mouth bubbles up if even the word "hospital" is said. They couldn't understand why or how I healed so quickly. Three, I never trusted a single adult after that.

Klaus just stepped on a pressure-sensitive bomb in the middle of a minefield. We both heard the click. I was so, so _angry_. I _hated_ this, all the fury and dark emotions I kept bottled up all the time. No wonder I was unraveling thread by thread. No wonder I ended up on that rooftop. Which is why I played a card I never thought I'd play. It disgusted even _me_. "You ever even _threaten_ to lock me away again, and I'll slit my wrists the second you aren't looking."

The room was even quieter than silent, if that makes any sense. It did to me, but you had to be there. Any semblance of his self-control vanished without a trace, and it took _less_ than a second for him to invade my personal space, all ferocity and intimidation. The other Mikaelsons blended into the background; I could only focus on him. "Don't you _ever_ say that to me again, or you will _regret_ it."

I was shaking out of fear, but I still found enough courage to deliver the killing blow. "Dead girls can't regret anything."

I don't quite know what I expected. Some fierce banter in return, a few hasty threats, but no matter how much I already loathed him, I never expected him to back-hand me across the face.

Hard, too. His knuckles crashed into my cheekbone and split open the tender skin, the force of the blow knocking me right off my feet and onto the cold, unforgiving ground. Pain blossomed across my face and tears sprung to my eyes. Klaus looked from me, to his hand, and back again, his eyes as wide as planets and his lips slightly parted. He was as stunned as me. Petrified, even.

Everything happened very quickly after that. Kol slammed into Klaus, the two of them a blur as Kol rammed him into the staircase, black veins stretched beneath his reddened eyes and his canine teeth sharp and deadly. " _I will fucking kill you, Nik!_ " Elijah pushed himself into the rumble along with Finn and the middle-aged man, and Freya stood to the side in a daze. But it sounded like white noise from where I lay.

Rebekah was by my side in a flash, sitting me up and cradling my face between her hands. "I'm sorry, little one."

Hot tears spilled over the brims of my eyes too easily. I was so _weak_. So what, he hit me? I used to be hit all the time. Leon _still_ hit me all the time. And I healed quickly, too, so the gash would close up soon. And yet, when Rebekah hugged my head to her chest and wrapped her soft arms around me, sobs racked my aching form.

I always had a distant hope that if I found my biological parents, they'd be different than the arseholes I dealt with in the system. I think I was crying mostly from shock. He was my real father, and after a ten-minute conversation with me, he already hit me hard enough to knock me off my feet. There was no hope left.

But I let her comfort me, because deities above, I needed it. She murmured sweet nothings in my ear as I helplessly watched the violence play itself out before me. Klaus didn't even try and defend himself as Kol pounded on him without an ounce of mercy. Elijah and the middle-aged man were attempting to split the two of them apart, but from my angle, it appeared that Finn was helping Kol.

I winced as Rebekah screamed at the top of her lungs, " _Stop it, all of you! Can't you see what this is doing to her?_ " And they had the decency to stop. Klaus was a bloody mess, much worse than what he inflicted on me. I would never forget the look in his eye as I stared at him through moist eyelashes, my tears wet with a fountain of tears and blood. He looked nothing like the vengeful vampire I saw only moments ago.

No, he looked like a broken little boy who hated himself more than anything else in the whole damn world. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking at the second word. He couldn't stand it. Which is why he raced past me at vampire speed. He threw such a fit at me leaving the compound, yet it was easy enough for him to do so.

Kol was the first to blur over to me besides Rebekah, and he tenderly wiped my tears away. "He's a bastard," he murmured, the embers of rage still burning in his chocolate brown eyes. "He's a fucking bastard."

I couldn't speak. Something broke in me, then. I was so, so tired of being abused. I was everybody's fucking punching bag and I couldn't _take_ it anymore. Sure, I was a first-class bitch extraordinaire. But I couldn't stand being hit anymore.

I broke free of Rebekah's loving hold and _ran_. I didn't leave the compound, though. Klaus' message to me was loud and clear. Instead, I made it for the staircase, my legs burning as I took the steps up two at a time. They didn't stop me.

My room evoked a sense of misery in me, so I chose the bathroom instead, making sure to lock the door behind me I stared at myself in the mirror and despised what I saw. Makeup smeared across my bloody and tear-stained face, green eyes bloodshot, hair a mess.

My life was spinning out of fucking control and there was nothing I could do about it. I _needed_ control, but I never had it before, and I didn't know how to achieve it now.

In a trance, I stepped in the shower, turning it on and turning the knob until the water was boiling hot. It barely registered that I was still fully clothed. My knees wobbled and gave out, and I sank into the bathtub, letting the painfully hot water pour on me from above. I collapsed to the side, pulling my knees up to my chest, and sobbing my heart out. I needed control.

That was when the bathroom door slammed open, quite possibly breaking the lock and breaking through the plaster of the walls. I tensed, hoping with everything in me it wasn't Klaus, but it wasn't. "Jessie!" It was my uncle/best friend/partner in crime. He ripped open the curtains and garnered a good look of me. "Oh dear. Look at you."

He knelt besides the tub and fingered with a lock of my soaked blonde hair, a strong mist of shower flowing against him, dampening his hair and clothes. "Come on, darling. Don't take any heed of Nik's assholery. You don't need him. You have _me_. Always and together, remember?"

My tears were as relentless as the shower stream, and my hand fumbled for Kol's. "I-I don't want to be h-hit again, Kol. I-I . . . _can't_."

He reached over and stroked the side of my cheek, his fingers trailing against the smeared blood. His jaw was set with determination. "You will never be hit again, Jess." That was the first time he ever called me that. "I will never let you be hit again."

I shifted over to accommodate his comforting hand. "I trust you . . . _Ollie_." Since he awarded me with a new nickname, I decided to return to the favor.

His lips curved up into a gentle smile, foreign to his face. "I'll cheer you up." I sat up as he held up the baggie of marijuana I stole yesterday as well as a couple of joints. "Darling, why be down, when you can get high?"

The sun was slipping below the horizon in fiery streaks of red and pink as Kol and I lay back on the roof of the Abattoir, blowing smoke up to the purple-tinged clouds. Spending time with him calmed me down, let me think about something other than Klaus. "What is it like to kill somebody?" I probably wouldn't have asked that if not for the murkiness swirling around in my head. But ever since I found out what they were, I'd been wondering. They were ruthless murderers, but there seemed to be something . . . _enticing_ about their lifestyles.

Kol nudged out the joint and flicked it to the side, still keeping his eyes glued on the darkening sky. "Exhilarating. I've killed thousands upon thousands of people, and I've enjoyed every second of it." He glanced over to me, a little wary. "Does that scare you?"

I honestly considered it. He was a mass murderer, with no regard for the human existence. We were prey to him. Toys. Means to an end. Walking sacks of blood. I was right next to him, and he could hear my thudding heartbeat, my constant pulse. He could tear into me, rip my throat apart with his supernatural, and I'd be dead in less than a second.

And yet . . . "No," I told him truthfully, and he looked relieved somehow. "It should, shouldn't it?" I smiled weakly, flickering my gaze up back at the slowly revealing stars. The city lights made them appear faded and distant. "It would bother most people. But I'm not most people."

His chocolate brown eyes glimmered with an emotion I couldn't read. "No, you're not, are you?" A shadow of nostalgia blackened his countenance. "You remind me of my little brother." I tilted my head questioningly. What little brother? I thought Rebekah was the youngest. "Henrik," he clarified, closing his eyes in remembrance. "He was only thirteen when he died, a thousand years ago. He accepted everybody, no matter what." A muscle tensed in his jaw, his eyes still squeezed shut. "Werewolves slaughtered him. It was Niklaus' fault, yet nobody talks about him anymore. They've forgotten, perhaps. But I haven't."

When he opened his eyes, they were swimming with an unshed layer of tears. "I miss him."

What was it about substance abuse that ended up turning us so emotional? "I'm so sorry, Ollie," I murmured, burying my face into his shoulder. His arms paused, then hesitantly wrapped back around me, his hold tightening to the point where I couldn't breathe. But I didn't mind; Kol needed this.

"Let's leave," I whispered into the scratchy fabric of his shirt. I knew he heard me from the way he stiffened around me. "I'm not joking." I turned my head and rested my chin against him to form eye contact. "Let's leave. Let's get Davina, and leave this bloody town. I don't know how long, but let's just _go_."

He sighed; a deep, rumbling noise inside of his chest. "Are you sure, darling? It's no secret that I prefer to separate myself from the lot of them. But your sister's here. You would be leaving her too."

"Good," I mumbled. "Fuck her. She has no problem leaving me."

He stood the two of us up in a flash of movement. "Now?" He was beginning to sound eager. I knew he wouldn't say no to that.

I nodded resolutely. "Now. Let's get Davina, get your car, get my crap from the motel, and get the hell out of here."

That's why, twenty minutes later, we sped out of the French Quarter in Kol's new convertible black Mercedes. Leon was in the motel room, that I'd entered alone, but he had no protests to my exodus. He never cared about me in the first place.

I smiled as the wind pelted my face, and as Davina swayed in her leather seat to some catchy pop song on the radio. Kol laughed out loud as she waved her arms in the air, giggling. "Where should we go?" he chuckled, barely even keeping one finger on the steering wheel.

I stretched my legs across the backseat of the car, draping my arms over the car door and back of it. Tossing my head back, I allowed my hair to dry in the rippling breeze around us. "Another country. Somewhere far, far away."

Kol and I shared a wicked smirk, and he shouted for all of New Orleans to hear, "Next stop: anywhere!"

 **Amy's Perspective**

We shared the bed all night and all day, wavering beneath sleep and sex. I felt guilty for leaving my twin right up until the moment Leon drove me into ecstasy, pushing all other thoughts from my mind. He moaned my name in my ear, his fingernails clawing into my back, arching me forward. We were one.

He shuddered and shouted out as he finally reached his climax, rolling off me and panting besides me. "I love you," I whispered, trailing my fingers against his bare chest. "Do you love me?"

His smile was blinding. "Of course I do, my sweet Amy. I love you more than anybody else. You mean the world to me." Satisfied, I snuggled close to him, relishing in his musky scent. He then promptly fell asleep, as he often did after a particularly rough round of sex. I loved him so much.

I felt as if I belonged here, laying naked beside him. He was my soul mate, the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I knew it ever since I was thirteen years old. It was bliss, having to worry about nothing of my old life, just being able to press against him . . .

And then some motherfucker knocked on the door. Talk about a mood-killer, even though Leon was already asleep. "Who is it?" I hissed, assuming it to be the front-desk lady who finally realized our cover story was bogus.

"It's Elijah." _Oh shite._ "May I come in?" _You've got to be bloody kidding me_.

"How important is it?" Stupid question. If he was here, it had to be important. But a girl can dream . . . !

"Quite." His tone was clipped. "Amy, do you have someone else in there?" Oh, so that's why he sounded pissed. Of course, he could hear the two heartbeats. "I suggest you come out here right this very second, because at the moment, I'm not entirely happy with you."

My temper spiked as I pulled on his boxers and his undershirt, simply to rub it in Elijah's face. In fact, I mussed up my hair even more. I was about to walk away from the mirror when I noticed the delicate bruises that had formed on my arms. It wasn't uncommon when we had sex; he was rough, it was hot, and the bruises just showed his passion. I smiled as I slipped the sleeves a little farther down my arm and plastered on a smirk as I opened up the motel door. "You rang?"

None too gently, he yanked me out into the hallway, and closed the door behind me. I crossed my arms over my chest when I remembered I forgot to put on a bra. Welp, this was awkward. "Hey, hands off the merchandise!"

A muscle twitched in his jaw, the only outward sign of any negative emotion. "Amy, did you have sex with him?"

He didn't just ask that. Please tell me he didn't ask that. And he expected me to answer? _Kill. Me. Now._ He was my _uncle_ , he wasn't supposed to ask those kinds of questions. His eyes flickering upward in a show of exasperation at my lack of an answer, he said, "Amy, I was not born yesterday. I've been on this planet for a thousand years. I can assure you, I know the mechanics quite well." Wow, yes, I did not need to hear that. "Did you use a condom? You are fifteen years old. I can't imagine you're ready for motherhood."

This could not be happening. Leon didn't like condoms. And, well, I never got pregnant, so . . . He said it restricted his pleasure, and when he didn't receive his pleasure, he grew upset. "Um, no." My cheeks were burning something fierce.

Another twitch of his jaw. "Is this an isolated incident?"

I liked him, I really did. But this was stepping over a line I'd yet to draw. But the next time I stumbled upon a marker of some sort, I would be _drawing_ that line. I couldn't look him in the eye. "He doesn't like condoms."

His index finger nudged my chin up so I was forced to look into his burning brown eyes. My heart sank deep into my stomach. "Is that so? He doesn't _like_ them?" His tone was dry, sarcastic, and mocking.

I stepped away from him, indignant on Leon's behalf. "Well, you don't have to deal with that, 'cause you're dead! You can't knock anybody up!" An elderly couple exited their room at that very moment, radiating severe disapproval. "Yeah, move it along, nothing to see here, just your average round of necrophilia."

Elijah ground his teeth in irritation and clapped his hand on my shoulder, squeezing a tad harder than she deemed to be necessary. "Ow," I growled, but he didn't lessen his grip.

"Move along, and do not remember this exchange," he told the elderly couple, his pupils dilating, as well as theirs. Nodding, they moved along on their merry way.

"Are you on birth control?" he asked the very second they turned the corner.

"No!" I shouted, fed up with his relentless interrogation. I pulled my arm free of him. "No, I'm not on birth control, because I think it's a hassle. That guy in there? I've never used a condom with him. _Not once_." His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, and I took that as a sign to continue. "Do I know if I have any STDs? No, because I haven't checked! I could be walking around with bloody HIV right now, and I wouldn't be any the wiser! Hell, I could even be _pregnant_."

He stuck a finger right in my face, and I suppressed the itching urge to flinch away. No, he didn't scare me. Not one bit. Was I intimidated? Nope, not me. He wasn't intimidating. His quiet authority didn't phase me one bit. Yup, I was going to let myself believe that. "Get changed, and come with me. Now. It's urgent."

"No!" I chirped, perfectly happy barefoot and in her boyfriend's underwear. "If you're gonna drag me wherever the hell you want, then I'm going like _this_. And there isn't anything you can do about it."

And so, we marched in a tense silence out of the motel. I knew he was quite furious, but he had a good handle on his temper. It was a curious thing, really. How far could I push him, I wondered? There was only one way to find out.

"People of the world!" I announced as we exited the motel onto the grimy, trash-littered streets of the French Quarter. "Or more specifically, New Orleans! My name is Amy Kaslova, and I am a _whore_!" Strangers stopped in the middle of the street to balk at me. _Good_. "A dirty, filthy whore! In fact, I'm basically a prostitute! A good, old-fashioned street-walker. Look here, I'm wearing my boyfriend's underwear- who is, might I add, at least ten years older than me!" Some I-phones were raised and recording me. "I've had sex with, like, half the population of Manhattan! And I'm only fifteen, too! Yet I lost my virginity when I was thirteen, but technically I started giving hand jobs since I was eleven, and blowjobs since I was twelve, so I'm not sure which one really counts-"

Elijah's arm flung itself around my neck, and his hand clamped down on my mouth so no more words could slip out. He literally dragged me along, my bare toes barely skimming along the dirty surface of the concrete. Strangers laughed, pointed, clapped, cat-called, and whooped, and I lifted one of my hands to wave in acknowledgement. " _Enough_ ," he hissed in my ear, and he might've cracked a rib or two with how tightly I was pressed to him.

"Do you not accept me for who I am?" I mumbled into his hand.

"Niklaus hit Jessica." My entire world went screeching to a halt, and if it weren't for his tight grip on me, I would've crumpled to the ground. "She threatened to commit suicide if he ever threatened to lock her away again, and he lost his temper."

Of fucking course she didn't want to be locked away! Jesus Christ, after that time when we were seven, she _hated_ small spaces. "No shit!" I yelled, ducking out from underneath him so I could face him. "See, this is another example how you all don't know us at all, even if you _think_ you do. One of my foster parents locked her in a bloody closet for a week. She almost died. If Niklaus ever locks her away, I'll fucking _end_ him."

The rest of the way I high-tailed it, not caring where Elijah was. When I strode into the elegant courtyard, I had little care of my attire, I was out for blood. In the center of the courtyard awaited Finn and Rebekah, but I had little time to deal with them, I instead reached for the first think of alcohol I saw, threw it back, and then proceeded to smash the cup. The glass smashed into millions of shards around my bare feet and echoed throughout the house. The sound was followed by an eerie silence of anticipation.

He took his sweet time making his way over to the balcony, walking with a swagger as he often did. It added to my rage as it appeared he seemed perfectly content with himself after what he had done. Looking back, I was too angry to notice the despair and self-loathing set deep into his ocean blue eyes. Looking back, I hadn't realized he'd only just returned from the heart of the city, where he'd internally torn himself to shreds.

Resting his elbows upon the guard rail, he spoke, "Hello, Amy, how lovely it is that you grace us with your presence. Although, first and foremost, I believe that we do need to discuss what you are wearing, and what activities allowed led to this outfit decision. I thought you were better than that."

"Niklaus, we have many things to discuss, my outfit is most definitely not one of them. Where is my sister?" He dared hesitate in his response. I could swear my face was begin to turn a deep shade of red to portray my fury.

"Gone."

"What do you mean _gone_? Where the hell is she, Niklaus, and I recommend you answer well, I am in no mood to deal with this facade of yours, so do not test me." I was ready to tear through this house and seek her out myself if he choose to play this game with me much longer.

Elijah spoke before myself, sharing my state of displeasure with Niklaus' game. "Brother, you have done enough damage today, where is Jessica?" However composed my uncle pretended to be, even now anger broke through his picture of indifference.

He chose action over words in response as he sped down the stairs and reached out with a paper in hand.

With a swift gesture, I swiped the paper from his grip and slightly turned my back to him, telling him I did not desire him in my presence at the moment. At a glance I could tell that the note was written by my sister. Her handwriting wasn't as neat as my own, some may even call it sloppy, although that wasn't not the case. It was simply that her thoughts passed through her head fast and she wrote quickly to keep up with her ever running mind.

The note read:

 _Dear my psychotic father, my bitch of a sister, and the rest of my family;_

 _After being slapped by my father and thrown out like a piece of trash on the side of the road by my sister, I have decided to take a trip with the only family who understands and cares about me, Kol. Oh, and Davina. Anyway, I have left and I will not be returning anytime soon. Thanks to my kind-hearted uncle, we packed quickly and will have left by the time you arseholes receive this. Because we all know you'll be siding with my dear old dad. Believe me, Kol warned me. Don't try to stop me, don't try to follow, just leave me be. Bye, bitches!_

My jaw gaped slightly open as I reread the message. I understand that it was cruel of me to neglect my twin, but she should know it wasn't for lack of love, but simply out of need to be with Leon. I had made a mistake, I couldn't negate such fact, but she left, without even telling me personally. Instead, I was left to be called a bitch in a note to our so-called "family" whom of which we barely know. That was plain rude and a line that we vowed not to cross. We did not leave each other, that was our deal, yet it was discarded over a petty encounter when I decided to give some of my attention to my lover rather than her. I admit I may be overdramatic, but I was wounded.

Handing the note to Elijah, he proceeded to read it aloud, for his siblings benefit. I glanced around and saw a slight hurt cross Rebekah's features. She was kind enough to us, and I could tell she didn't like being discarded, like myself. Finn couldn't care less, but for what time I had known the man that had seemed to be his general status and it seemed the family returned the feeling when it came to anything regarding him.

Once Elijah was finished, Klaus began, as if he had some earned stance in this matter, "It seems our insolent brother has made haste to escape with his newfound friend and seeing as we know how our youngest brother is, I recommend we discuss matters later and seek them out before they leave the city."

Believing everyone would agree, Klaus made his way for the exit. It seemed the other members of our family didn't agree with him either, but made no move to speak. It appeared they were awaiting my response.

"No."

Freezing, Klaus turned on his heels, taking long strides to stand before me. "I dare ask you why you would allow you twin sister to run off without you and why would I allow my daughter to run off and do God knows what with my sad excuse of a brother?" His words were clipped and sharp, and anger, of which he had no right to, surrounded him.

My gaze found the ceiling as took a breath, analyzing my words, before they were spoken. "She is not your daughter." Looking deep into his eyes, I added, " _I_ am not your daughter."

It almost escaped my notice, but he flinched in response to my harshly flung accusations. "Love, however angry you may be, that is not a position one chooses to have. You are my blood, and whether I care to have you or not, you are my daughters." He was mad. Klaus wasn't hard to read, and the more time I was in his presence, the more the story was explained. He didn't like be told anything he didn't want to hear.

"A person who dares strikes a child of their blood or any child at all doesn't earn the right to call himself a parent. That is an act of a human bound for _hell_ , who deserves never to feel love, nor to be loved, and who has no worth to this planet. You don't hit kids." My tone was cold and crisp.

I had wondered until that point if the man before me had emotions, but then I looked into those eyes. He agreed with me, of that I had zero doubt, and that was the first time I saw either of us in him. It was that look of vibrant and unspeakable despair, that very look, the one Jessie had in her darker moments. He said nothing.

"I am _glad_ my sister left because that means she will be nowhere within your reach." I gripped his chin and made him look straight into my eyes and to my utmost surprise, he didn't resist. He knew he deserved this. "Should you even think about seeking out my sister, there is nowhere you can run that will be far enough. You're powerful as hell, yeah, but I don't care. She's my twin. I will hurt you in every way that exists because she is my true family and there is nothing I wouldn't do for family. _Let her be_."

After that, he and I had nothing to say to each other. He looked somewhere between ripping my heart out and stabbing a stake into his own chest. But I didn't give him the chance. Even with the regret twisting inside me over the cruelty of my words, I couldn't take it back, so I left, without looking back. Nobody followed me. Not even Elijah, who went through such trouble to bring me here. Any ties I had with my newfound family, I just burned.

Whatever, I was going to hell anyway. Might as well bring everybody with me. And it's not like I needed a father anyway. I had Leon to take care of me.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Leon asked once I reentered the motel room. Unable to speak, I collapsed onto our bed and forced back a violent wave of sobs. Oh, how I _loathed_ myself. Jessie spurted out crap without thinking. What I said to Klaus was utterly intentional and meant to hurt. I wanted him to hurt as much as I did when I found out my twin left me. That must've been how _she_ felt when I abandoned her at Rousseau's, I assumed. "Does it have something to do with Elijah Mikaelson and your family?"

I snapped my head up and stared at him in shock. How did he know about Elijah Mikaelson? His brown eyes twinkled and his scratchy chin met with my cheek as he kissed me on the head. "Oh, you stupid little _fool_." I flinched, but said nothing. "You think I don't know what you've been up to here in New Orleans? I have my contacts. Hell, I've known all along you and your sister were witches, along with whatever the hell lets you heal so fast."

I scooted away from him, feeling betrayed. "You know about that supernatural bollocks and you never bothered to tell me? How could you do that to me?" He rolled his eyes, beginning to throw our possessions into duffel bags. My heart rate began to quicken. "W-What are you doing?"

"Dammit, Amy, we're leaving and there's nothing you can say to change my mind!" he shouted, and I waited for him to hit me. Thankfully, he didn't this time, and I allowed my body to relax. "Have you _never_ wondered how I've never been arrested for all the shit I do? Why I'm stronger than other people, faster?" I began to tremble. "I presume you know about vampires now, from meeting the Mikaelsons, so I guess that saves me some work, huh?" _No, no, don't let this all be a lie_ . . .

Bulging black veins began to form on Leon's cheeks and red spilled into the irises of his eyes. _No, no, no!_ "I'm a vampire, my dear Amy. I've always told you I'm twenty-five years old, yes? I was, when I was turned." My stomach twisted into a thousand knots as a wicked smirk overtook his face. "Five hundred years ago."

Leon blurred over to me, faster than I'd ever seen him move, and rested his hands on each side of my face. I couldn't _move_. "We're leaving New Orleans tonight, my love. But before that, now I can do something I've always wanted to do, ever since I first met you when you were eleven years old. Hold still, this won't hurt at _all_."

He sank his elongated fangs into my jugular, and I screamed as he ripped into my throat.

 **A/N: Dun dun duuuuun. So, yeeep, Leon's a vampire. One with more resources than you might think (that'll be explained soon enough). Jessie left with Kol and Davina, and Amy's going to be taken away with Leon, leaving Klaus to face what havoc he's caused. Next chapter, we'll be introducing Belle, and we really hope you'll like her! :D We loooove feedback!**


	14. New Girl

**A/N: First off, thank you again for the continued support! We love you all, and appreciate every single review we get. You guys are** ** _awesome_** **:D.**

 **So, Amy and Jessie, along with Leon, Kol, and Davina have gone MIA. We'll be switching to their perspectives soon enough, but firstly, we decided to introduce a new OC.**

 **This starts after a three month time jump. Now, like we mentioned in the author's note last chapter, originally (yes, yes that pun was intentional and terrible), there was going to be Haylijah in this story. Now, upon watching and rewatching the Originals, we honestly don't like how Hayley treats Elijah. He's been devoted and loyal to her since the very beginning, and she's only strung him along with Jackson, in love with them both and unwilling to entirely give up Elijah, even when she gets married.**

 **In our opinion, Elijah deserves better. He deserves somebody who actually** ** _chooses_** **him. So, we created a woman named Belle Whitlock, and this is her story. We really, really hope you like her. We put tons of work into perfecting this quite long chapter, and took a long time to shape her character and backstory to our liking.**

 **This is for the fans (like us authors) who often have trouble relating to the smooth, suave, confident characters. This is for the fans who are awkward, and blurt out things at the wrong time, and can't flirt to save their lives. Basically, we relate to Belle a lot more than we relate to Hayley, haha.**

 **Please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much :).**

 **Disclaimer: We own nothing but our OCs.**

 **Warnings: Somewhat graphic descriptions of domestic abuse, mentions of non-consensual sex potentially leading to pregnancy.**

 **Chapter 14: New Girl**

 **Belle's Perspective**

 **P.S. If you think the twins in this chapter Alexander and Angelica are named after Alexander Hamilton and Angelica Schuyler Church, then . . . yeah, you'd be right. We're obsessed with the musical _Hamilton_ , and couldn't help but sneak in an obvious reference. **

"Give me freedom, or give me good grades," I said dryly as I waited for my father to finish his shift and meet me for dinner. My napkin was ripped into jagged pieces into a neat little pile, and I couldn't think of anything else to do. Dad was a half hour late.

A familiar feeling of nausea crawled its way up my throat, and was I beginning to regret meeting him at Rousseau's, an establishment full of delicious aromas and non-stop music.

Doctor Dad wanted to celebrate the fact I was about to start med school in only a week's time. I was stressed out of my mind, and didn't appreciate his determination to get me drunk, but to each their own. I fought the itching urge to dial up the babysitter and check up on my kids, and I was losing the battle when my father finally slid into the seat across from me.

"Don't you dare," he threatened as my finger hovered over the keypad. "They're fine. You hover over them already, loosen up for a night, will ya? Don't forget you promised me dinner, little lady."

Mildly affronted by his blunt way of calling me a mother hen, I deflected by accusing, "Did you forget when said dinner was meant to start?" A playful smirk tugged up the corners of my lips. "You've been forgettin' a lot of things lately. Is there something you need to tell me, Father? Alzheimer's does run in our family, you know . . ."

He snorted and shook his head at me ruefully. "Ha ha. In case you've forgotten, daughter, I'm forty-two. Early onset Alzheimer's is very rare, Miss Med School. You might want to crack out the ol' textbooks."

"Hey, you're the doctor, not me," I pointed out.

"You decided to intern for me," he countered as quick as a flash, a twinkle in his bright blue eyes. I loved his eyes, but I ended up inheriting my mother's hazel eyes, which my kids got from me. It looked better on them.

I smiled cutely, resting up chin onto my propped fists. "Hindsight's twenty-twenty."

"Hate to break it to you, but poor eyesight runs in our family, too. And personally, I'm happy about it. It's a win-win. I get to torture you at home and at work, and you get to learn from the living legend."

"Living legend? Slow down there, Doc Holiday."

Our fast-paced slew of insults was interrupted when Dad decided abruptly that he needed alcohol if he were to spend more than five minutes with me and survive. His exact wording, in case you were wondering. Ass. Sharing our trademark sneers with each other, I waltzed over to the bar and received a pleasant surprise when I realized Camille was working tonight. We'd bumped into each other more a couple weeks before, and became fast friends.

"Belle!" Cami's face split into a broad smile as she finally saw me, and she moved away from the customer she'd been speaking to. "What brings you here?"

I grinned back, and propped my elbows up on the counter. "My punctually-challenged father decided to break free of his twenty-five hour, eight-day week schedule and treat me to dinner."

She chuckled as she cleaned out the nearest shot glass, her blonde hair bouncing around during the movement. I couldn't help but watch in fascination; she had hair to die for. "Well, that's nice of him."

I tweaked an eyebrow and glanced back at him, as he was waving and gesturing impatiently for me to order his drink. "Something like that. . . ."

"Daughter," he all but whined over to me, and I rolled my eyes to the ceiling, "I'm not getting any younger!"

"You don't need to tell me that, Father, your Alzheimer's is already kicking in!" Giggling at his aghast expression, I ordered him a scotch on the rocks and water for me. As Camille went to get me the drinks, the man who Cami had been talking to earlier turned to me. I offered him a shy smile.

I'm not going to recap in detail how that went. He flirted with me, I attempted to reciprocate, and I failed. Dismally. And it was stupid anyway, because I hadn't even finalized my divorce. When I returned to the booth, I all but shoved the drink toward my father, who was staring at me with a strange look on his face. Properly humiliated, I ground out, "What?"

The laughter he'd been holding back burst through like a cracked dam. Of course he was eavesdropping. I hid my face in my hands and pretended I was somewhere else- anywhere else. "Daughter, if that's your idea of flirting, then you need to reevaluate your priorities. I could've flirted better with him."

Slamming my palms down on the table, I fixed him with, "Then why don't you? We all know your history of women hasn't gone well for you." I felt bad right after, and if I could take it back, I would in a heartbeat. That was a low blow.

His expression carefully crafted into a neutral mask, but I could tell I hurt him. "Ouch," he chuckled, but it was without any humor. "You really know how to hit below the belt, Liberty Belle."

Liberty Belle was one of his favorite nicknames for me. It annoyed me when I was younger, but now I found it endearing. "Ugh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." This was just not my night. "That was mean. I'm not mean. Or, I try not to be. And I don't have a leg to stand on, considering my history with men."

Evidently letting the uncalled for jab roll off his shoulders, he emphasized, "Hey, you were only with one guy. Yeah, I never approved of him, and yeah, I didn't think you being knocked up was a good enough reason to marry at eighteen, and yeah, he turned out to be an utter piece of shit that I will eventually suffocate with a stethoscope if he rears his asshole head . . ." By the steeled look in his eyes, he wasn't kidding too much on the last part. "If he's not dead already."

Although the entire tirade was probably meant so I'd loosen up and laugh, it scratched at a raw wound and brought more pain bubbling to the surface. I had the sudden urge to cry, but I'd been crying enough lately, so I held the tears at bay. "I'm starting to think your advice is just a way of saying "I told you so." You were right all along, I get it. I should have never married him, when I didn't really know him. I shouldn't have had his children- which, by the way, were the only reasons I continued on living, so you were wrong there. But most of all, I shouldn't have let him hurt me. I should've been stronger. I should've-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, you stop that right now." He sounded uncharacteristically stern, and he reached over to grasp my hands in his much larger and more calloused ones. "It is not your fault. How many times do I have to tell you that before you stop blaming yourself?"

The tears I'd been holding back finally spilled over and trailed down my cheeks, and I lowered my head in shame. "I should have been strong enough to stop it. I only left a month ago, because I was so afraid he'd come after us, and steal the twins away from me." I bit back a sob.

In the face of my unraveling, Dad still managed to stay calm and reasonable, for my sake, even though I was sure he was stewing with rage beneath the surface directed toward my husband. "Baby, forget all that. You did leave, and you're safe now. You're all safe now."

That brought back the agonizing night and the unwanted memories flooded to the surface. I'd told my dad the basic summary, but I spared him the ugly details.

 **One Month Ago . . .**

 _"This is all your fault!" I stifled a cry of pain as he slapped me across the face. "I'm unhappy- no, I'm_ miserable _, because of you! You blame it on the alcohol, well guess what? I started drinking because of you!"_

 _"You don't mean that, Cameron," I said quietly, and flinched as he pushed me into a wall, furious I'd dare refute him. "We were happy once."_

 _He slammed his fist into the wall right near my head, and left a hole. I looked into the red-rimmed, drunken eyes of my husband and wondered where our marriage went wrong. I searched through the hateful blue orbs, and wondered where my real husband was, if he was even in there. If he was ever in there, or if it was some deluded fantasy on my part from the very beginning._

 _"I could've been so much more!" I squeezed my eyes shut as his spit sprayed across my face. "Look me in the eye when I'm talking to you, goddammit." I had no choice but to obey, and for what felt like the millionth time, pure hate bubbled up inside me. "If you hadn't gotten knocked up at seventeen, if the fucking condom hadn't broke, I'd be so much farther than where I am right now. I told you to abort it, Belle, I told you, but you didn't give a shit what I said then and you don't give a shit what I say now. And 'cause of them, look where we are now."_

 _Anything he had to throw at me, I'd take it and I'd suck it up, but the second he brought up our children . . . I stepped forward, making him step backwards, and said icily, "Them. Not it. Them. Alexander and Angelica. How can you even say that? You're their father! You're supposed to love them, and cherish them. Not frighten them, and hit their mother in front of them!"_

 _"Shut the fuck up!" He hit me again, and this time, I collapsed onto the bed. At this point, I was no stranger to pain, but part of me would never get used to . . . this. Even though it had become a main fixture of my life. "Guess what, they're not here right now, so they can't see this. And if they did, I'd make sure to tell them the truth- that you deserve this!" Growling to himself, he stepped away and frantically raked his fingers through his shaggy blond hair. "I didn't used to be this person, I didn't." He glared at me and pointed accusingly. "You turned me into this. And . . . and them. Y'all ruined me. I wasn't meant to be a father . . ."_

 _Even though he'd literally knocked me off my feet, my protectiveness of my children strengthened my resolve, so I stood right back up and got in his face. He'd make me regret it, that much I was positive, but I would not let him pin all of his faults on our beautiful children. "You know what?_ You _shut the fuck up." His droopy eyes widened in absolute shock. "Don't you dare put this on them. You can call me every name in the book, you can beat me until I'm black and blue, but I will_ not _let you call them mistakes. They will not grow up thinking they're anything less than loved. I will not let you ruin them like you've ruined yourself!"_

 _Cameron hit me again, harder than the times before, and as pain exploded across my cheek and stars surrounded me, I collapsed to the ground. As soon as I landed, he kicked me in the side twice, and tears leaked from my eyes. So much pain . . . "Stop crying, you stupid bitch. You don't get to cry. It makes you weak. Hell, you are weak. Talk to me like that again, and I'll fucking kill you." He glowered down at me so ferociously that for the first time, I feared for my life. I wondered if this is when it happened, if this is where he finally snapped and ended my life._

 _And that was when I noticed my two miracles standing in the doorway, their cheeks wet with tears and their eyes wide with horror. No, no, no . . . how long had they been standing there? How much did they hear? How much did they see? Cameron kicked me again, and the twins jumped in terror. "Alex, Angel," I managed to choke out, sitting up, and Cameron turned around to see them. "Everything is going to be okay-"_

 _In a rage, Cameron spun back around and socked me right in the jaw. "I didn't say you could talk!" he screamed down at me as I fell back down again. The twins clutched each other and sobbed, and my heart shattered into a million pieces._

 _Angel wailed desperately, "Don't hurt Mommy!" at the same time as Alex shouted furiously at his father, "Stop hitting her!" My babies, my poor babies. They should have never been exposed to this, at four years old; they should've barely known what hitting_ was _. Alex and Angel should've only known what a happy, healthy marriage looked like, with parents who loved each other. Not that Daddy yelled at and beat Mommy. They shouldn't have known what fear was, what_ hate _was._

 _"Get the fuck out of here!" he bellowed at the both of them and they hugged each other even tighter. They didn't budge an inch; they were probably afraid he would hit me again, and they didn't want to leave me. Alex and Angel were so pure, so good . . ._

 _Cameron started taking meaningful strides toward them, and despite the pain, I was on my feet in half a second. I moved faster than I ever had before, and stood in his way, placing my hands firmly onto his chest. "No, Cameron," I begged him, "stay away from them. Please, if you want to hit someone, hit me! Not them, please, not them . . ."_

 _"No, d-don't hit M-Mommy!" Angel blubbered behind me. She was crying so hard it sounded as if she was choking on her own tears. "P-Please don't h-hit Mommy anymore!"_

 _Cameron wholeheartedly took me up on my bargain. With everything in him, he shoved me to the side and I crashed into our dresser, gasping at the impact. "Stop it, stop it!" Alex screamed up at him almost incoherently, and Angel echoed him._

 _As much as I despised him, Cameron had never taken his anger out on our children. He saved it all for me. At least . . . not before tonight. Something about them pushed him over the edge, and he lunged towards them, grabbing them by the fronts of their pajama shirts and pushing them out of the doorway. The two of them stumbled backwards at the force and smashed against the wall across from our bedroom, their heads banging against the plaster before they fell forward in a heap of tears and shrieks._

 _Something in me broke, and I didn't think it would ever heal. My own pain meant nothing to me anymore, it dissolved into an influx of adrenaline. I wasn't an abused, battered wife anymore, I was a lioness. He wasn't their father anymore. He was the bastard who hurt my cubs._

 _It was as if my legs were moving of their own accord, my children's cries were my driving force. I grasped the back of his collar and twisted him around to face me, then wound up my fist and punched him in the nose as hard as I could. "Get the hell away from my children, you son of a bitch!" His nose shattered beneath the sheer force of my knuckles, and a fountain of blood poured down his face onto his shirt._

 _Cameron wasn't going to take this without a fight, though. "You fucking bitch!" He shoved me backwards again, but this time, I didn't fall. He threw his own punch, which landed against my right eye, but I didn't just take it. I punched him back, harder, and blood sprang from his split lips. His hands wrapped around my neck as he pushed me down onto the bed, and began to force the breath from my lungs. Once upon a time, I might've let it happen. Because it didn't matter when he hurt me. As long as it wasn't my children. My Alexander and my Angelica. But he did hurt them, and if he killed me now, it would leave them motherless. So you bet your ass I fought back._

 _In one last effort, I propelled my feet into his gut and knocked him away from me. Right when he lunged for me again, I side-stepped him and dove for the nearest table lamp. My heart pounded a mile a minute as he charged for me, and with every ounce of my strength, I swung the lamp and it smashed into a thousand pieces over his head. He collapsed like a ton of bricks, and I stood there, panting, and gaping at what I'd just done. What I finally had the courage to do._

 _But my unconscious husband didn't capture more than a second of my attention. I dropped what was left of the lamp and headed straight for my children. They were sobbing and hyperventilating and caught in a fit of screams. "Shhh, shhh, I've got you," I crooned as I gathered them up in my arms, crying a little myself. "Mommy's got you, nobody's going to hurt you again."_

 _Their tiny arms curled around my neck and I lifted them up. This hellish life and chaos ended today. I wouldn't let my kids witness this for another second. "Everything's going to be okay, Mommy's got you. I love you both so much. Mommy loves you," I murmured soothingly to both of them as I hurried down the hall._

 _Little did my husband know, I had bags packed away of all of Alex's and Angel's favorite things and mine in the trunk of my car. Cameron had been worse than ever that month, and I knew deep in my bones that it would come to an end somehow, and I'd finally break my children free of him. I just didn't know how it would occur, and I never imagined it to be so volatile._

 _"Mommy, what about Cloudy?" Alex sniffled into my collarbone, and I swore under my breath. I'd nearly forgotten about our cat. Alex and Angel loved the little thing. I'd bought her for them last Christmas, around six months before, and she'd become a beacon of light for the three of us. I couldn't forget the damn cat._

 _"Cloudy!" I called, waiting anxiously for her to come trotting over. It needed to be before Cameron woke up. If he woke up. "Cloudy, come! Please," my voice broke on the last word into a sob, and finally, the pure white cat raced over to me with her tail between her legs. She'd become more and more skittish as Cameron had become more and more violent toward me._

 _Somehow balancing the twins and the cat, I hooked my keys around my finger and shoved my wallet and cell phone into my purse and slung it over my shoulder. Then, I managed to open the front door and all but sprint for my car. I wasted no time in buckling the twins into their respective carseats, whispering sweet nothings into their ear, and placing Cloudy between them._

 _Cameron must have woken up because he bellowed from inside, "BELLE, WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GO?" Just when I thought this night couldn't get any worse . . ._

 _"Shit, shit, shit," I muttered as I climbed into the driver's seat and fumbled for my keys, my hand trembling and sweating as I attempted to shove it into the ignition._

 _"Mommy, I'm scared," Angel whimpered from the backseat. "Is Daddy gonna hurt us again?"_

 _It was like she tore the remains of my heart right out of my chest, and crushed the ashes inside of her tiny fist. This should've never happened to them. I shouldn't have let this go on for so long. "I know you're scared, baby, but it's going to be okay," I assured her through my tears and terror as I finally managed to rev up the car's engine. "Daddy won't hurt you again. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, I promise you. You and Alex are the most precious things in the entire world to me."_

 _"And Cloudy," Alex pointed out, and I laughed a little crazily, despite the severity of the situation._

 _"Yes, Alex," I chuckled and sobbed at the same time. "Cloudy, too. We can't forget Cloudy, can we?"_

 _My heart about stopped in my damn chest when Cameron burst through the front door, murder in his stance. Shaking even harder than before, I frantically switched the car into reverse and pulled out of the driveway. During that move, Cameron sped across the front lawn and into the street . . . right in front of the car. Blood was caked across his hair, face, and shirt. "No, no, no," I breathed, banging my hands into the steering wheel and making sure every door was locked._

 _"You're not going anywhere, and you're not taking our kids away from me!" he shouted, coming even closer. "Get the fuck back into the driveway!" He looked positively insane. "Or you'll have to run me over. Which is it, you crazy bitch?"_

 _The old me would've lowered my head, and followed through with his demands. But the old me died the second he laid a hand on children. I straightened my spine and set my jaw. I. Was. Done. I imagined every single time he hurt me emotionally, physically, . . . even sexually. It didn't matter before, because I didn't matter. But the second he touched my kids, it was end game._

 _And thus, without a second more of consideration, I slammed my foot down on the gas and ran the bastard over. The car sent him flying to the side into a tree, but I didn't even spare a glance for him as I drove on._

 _After a few minutes of pure silence, my baby girl asked quietly from the back, "Is Daddy dead?"_

 _And I didn't know what to tell her._

 **About Six Hours Later . . .**

 _I drove across Alabama and Mississippi, not stopping for anything but bathroom breaks and food. And even then, I made sure to cover myself up with a hoodie I had stowed away near the passenger seat. I caught a glimpse of my face in one of the car mirrors, and it wasn't pretty._

 _New Orleans. I didn't know where else to go. I grew up in Atlanta, Georgia, and that's where I escaped from Cameron. My mama died when I was seventeen, one of the reasons I decided to marry Cameron. But my father lived in New Orleans._

 _I hadn't spent too much time with my father over the years, as I lived mostly with my mama- which wasn't too much fun in itself, mind you, she had her own set of issues- but Dad and I were as close as we could be with so much distance between us. Until Cameron knocked me up; he was extremely against our shotgun wedding idea, and didn't even go. He and I had been estranged for four years now- I was eighteen then, twenty-two now._

 _Pulling into the parking garage near his enormous loft apartment near the French Quarter, I decided to leave the bags in the car and took only Alex, Angel, and Cloudy. "It's going to be okay, it's going to be okay," I said over and over again, and it was just as much for me as it was for them._

 _It was three in the morning, so there weren't many people around to see us, thankfully- by now, my bruises had fully formed, and I looked every part of the battered wife. It would bring up a lot of questions._

 _Before I knew it, I arrived on my father's doorstep, and knocked furiously against his door. I needed him so much, but I didn't know what to expect. I hadn't even spoken with him in four entire years. Would he even let us in? Or would he sent us away? He was against my pregnancy in the first place, how would he react to seeing his grandchildren in the flesh? Did . . . did he hate me?_

 _All of my worries melted into relief when he opened the door, and I burst into tears, clutching my precious cargo against me (including Cloudy!). "Daddy, you were right," I sobbed. "You were right this entire time. I'm so sorry, Daddy, I'm so sorry."_

 _Dad's face fell slack, and his jaw dropped open as he took in my appearance. His countenance of sheer horror burned into my mind; I would remember it for the rest of my life. "Belle . . ." His eyes gleamed with tears of his own. "Oh my God . . . Baby, what the hell happened to you?"_

 **Present Time**

"You're thinking about it again, aren't you?" he sighed, and I nodded somberly. "You know, you never really told me the details. You gave me the gist of everything, but . . . You focused on the kids. I saw how you looked on my doorstep. How bad did it get for you?"

In the whole scheme of things, I'd never really considered my role in it. He hurt my kids, and that's what mattered to me. I pushed my own feelings aside so I could take care of them, and focus on the future. So, it was especially hard for me when I replied softly, "Bad. It got really, really bad."

I could see his heart breaking through his eyes, and I regretted saying anything. "I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't come to me sooner. And I'm sorry I put so much negativity on your pregnancy, because I love my grandkids, Liberty Belle, I love 'em to the moon and back."

I smiled through my tears, and brushed them off my cheeks. "I know you do, Dad. And you don't have to be sorry. You've helped me in so many ways this past month. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He sent me his own watery smile. "Well, luckily, you don't have to know, 'cause I'm right here. It's about time we ordered dinner, huh?" When I was stuck reliving that horrible night (Dad and I both suspected I had PTSD), a waiter had come, but Dad waved him off to give me some space.

After calling him back, Dad ordered a rack of baby back ribs, and I decided to pass on dinner. "You have to eat, daughter," he informed me as I sent the waiter away. "Have you eaten anything today?"

"I ate lunch, Father," I said defensively. "I just can't keep much down lately. I've been feeling pretty nauseous the last couple weeks. I think I have some kind of stomach bug."

He eyed me with knowing scrutinization, and I squirmed under his gaze. Don't even go there. Please, don't. "Miss Future Doctor, did you consider all of the possibilities?"

My mind refused to accept what he was putting on the table. "What exactly are you insinuating?"

He arched an eyebrow. "You know what I'm insinuating."

Crossing my arms, I leaned back into the booth and answered like a sullen teenager, "Dad, I'm not pregnant." A bit different from the time where I was a teenager and I also was in fact pregnant, and had to tell him that. "I-I can't be. I just got away from him."

Dad, like usual, wasn't putting up with any of my bullshit. Of all people in my life, basically ever, he was the only one who could always see right through me. "When was your last period?"

As a twenty-two year old woman, I still flushed bright red. "Father. No."

He released a breath of amusement and exasperation alike. "Daughter. Yes. Don't forget I'm a doctor, too. This kind of stuff doesn't faze me."

I'd kind of forgotten that part. Doctor Dad to the rescue, I supposed. "Oh, right. Um, well . . ." Come to think of it, now that I added up the days in my head . . . "I'm late. But I've been so stressed, and I haven't been eating well, so it only makes sense that-"

"You've been throwing up a lot, haven't you?"

I scowled at the fact that he interrupted me. "I repeat, I've been really stressed. Taking your kids away and running from an abusive husband, starting a whole new life in a whole new city, and entering medical school can do that to you."

"You're in denial."

I balked at him. "I am not."

"You are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Not."

"Are."

"We are such children," I chuckled, taking a sip of my water as his ribs were delivered to the table.

"That we are," he agreed as he tucked his napkin into his collar. "Now, did you have a . . . sexual encounter with him recently enough for you to be in early stages of pregnancy?" It clearly pained him to inquire that.

I breathed out hard through my nose. "I'm not pregnant."

"Humor me."

There was, in fact. It had been a few weeks before I packed up the kids and left. He was very drunk, and very angry. It wasn't a night I preferred to remember, as I wasn't exactly voluntarily involved in it. There wasn't much I could do about it now. He was my husband, anyway, it wasn't like he was some stranger off the streets. But still, I didn't like to think about it. It was possible, though, that we conceived another child. "Yes, it's possible that I'm pregnant, but . . ."

"But what?" he said through a mouthful of coleslaw.

Now, this was the hard part. I kept my gaze glued to the tabletop. "I figure I would have miscarried the night I left, if I was really pregnant."

He just about choked, and spit out his food into the nearest napkin. "W-what?" he spluttered, tossing the napkin to the side. "Explain. Now."

No, _this_ was the hard part. However much I didn't want to, he deserved an explanation. "He, um . . . hit me pretty hard at one point, and I fell to the ground, and . . . he kicked me a few times in the ribs. I'm just surprised that if I was pregnant, I didn't . . . lose it."

Dad said nothing for an extremely long time. I couldn't tell what he was thinking precisely. I was sure, though, he was imagining the countless ways he could murder my husband. I tore another napkin into a million pieces as I watched him. "Um, Dad? You okay over there?"

He stared at me blankly. "Dad can't come to the phone right now. Leave a message."

Well, now this was even more awkward. "Look, I know, it sucks. It doesn't matter now anyway, if I really am pregnant- hell, I don't even know if he's alive. Probably, he's a resourceful son of a bitch."

That broke him out of his stupor. "It sucks?" He let loose an incredulous snort. "It doesn't matter?" I cringed away from him. I should've known he wouldn't appreciate my word choice. "A man beats you hard enough for you potentially miscarry and all you say is that it sucks? And that it doesn't matter?" I shrugged, and that only infuriated him further. "What the hell is _wrong_ with you?"

The potent emotions that had been storming inside me all evening finally spilled, and I gnawed on my lip so hard I tasted the salty tang of blood. In this lapse of self-control, I forgot to keep my volume low, and ended up attracting the attention of the whole bar. "You know what? You weren't there! It was absolute _hell_ , but I got through it, and you don't get to judge me on how I cope!" Every pair of eyes were on me, or at least that's what it felt like. I grabbed my purse and stood from the table, cutting off my dad's protest with, "Enjoy your dinner. I'm going for a walk."

As I stormed dramatically from the table, I snapped loud enough for all to hear, "Show's over!" and headed for the exit, never wanting to enter that establishment again. Camille would surely have a lot of questions the next time I saw her. So, hopefully, I wouldn't see her again anytime soon.

The icy wind of the unusually chilly New Orleans night pelted my face, drying up the last of my tears. Now that I had stormed off, I wasn't entirely sure where to go. The babysitter was set to leave at a quarter after eight, and I still had a half hour to go. Aimlessly, I wandered down the streets, making sure to stay in well-lit areas. Also, I was trying to forget all of the wounds my father's persistent interrogation reopened. Soon enough, I would have to tell him more, and I wasn't sure I could handle it.

Jazz music exploded all around me, and I realized with dismay I found myself over at Bourbon street. Obnoxiously loud instruments and a parade of partying people did not fit my current mood description.

Part of me just wanted to go back to the restaurant, but that'd be like giving up. Giving up what, I wasn't entirely sure, but I was neurotic like that. I wasn't fond of losing, and going back there and facing my father with the countenance of a scolded child, felt like losing. I was already losing a battle against myself, I didn't need this defeat piled along with it. Man, I was really immature.

Slowing my pace, I glanced around, and for a split second, I thought a man across the street was Cameron. Pale skin, pale hair, the works. My heart quickened its pace and my gut twisted in fear. But then he showed his face, and it wasn't him. I breathed out a sigh of relief I didn't even know I was holding.

And then the waterworks started up again. Was this my life now? Any blond man off the street would push me to the point of a panic attack? I didn't used to be this weak. I used to be so much stronger, but Cameron ruined me as much as he ruined himself. I hated living in such a constant state of fear, but I didn't know how to stop it. "Fuck him," I choked out, salty tears flooding my mouth. "Fuck him, fuck him, _fuck him_."

I was running now, but from what, remained a mystery. It was moronic, since tears were blurring my vision and I could barely see a few feet in front of me, but the desperation to break free from my miserable existence of terror pushed me on. I thought moving in with my father would make things better, and it did, for the most part, but yet, here I was. Possibly pregnant with my abusive husband's child from an act of nonconsensual sex, and running from all of my problems. Some adult I turned out to be.

Sprinting even faster than before, I blindly rounded a corner, and that was when my life changed forever. Just by some stupid coincidence. I barreled right into a man, and squeezed my eyes shut as I expected us both to collapse onto the filthy concrete. We didn't. For one, he didn't budge a centimeter, and secondly, as I nose-dived straight for the sidewalk, he caught me. How convenient.

"I'm so, so sorry," I said through my never-ending fountain of tears. "Oh my God, I'm such an idiot." I couldn't even build up the courage to look at him. "T-thank you for catching me."

Without a word, the man held up a fancy handkerchief in front of my face, and following a beat of trepidation, I gratefully took it, attempting to wipe off my stained cheeks. "Think nothing of it, miss."

Looking up to thank him again, that was when I got my first look at him. And boy, did I like what I saw. He was a handsome man, with sharp but kind features. Dark, almost black hair, with eyes to match. And then there was the suit. He was obviously a classy man, with a black suit well-tailored to fit his muscular form.

"Hello, m-my name is Belle," I all but stammered. _Ugh._ This is what happened when I met good-looking people. It threw off my mojo. "Uh, I know you didn't ask, and you probably don't want to know because I just crashed into you, but it's too late to take back now," I finished lamely, and ducked my head in shame. A small smile tugged at his lips; he seemed almost amused by my rambling.

"It's nice to meet you, Belle." Before I could pull away, he fluidly grabbed my wrist and lifted it to his lips, pressing them down gently on the back of my hand. _Suit-man has game_ , I thought, then immediately mentally kicked myself for it. _I'm the most pathetic person I know._ It was almost as if the man could read my mind, because he smiled even wider. "My name is Elijah."

"Wood!" I exclaimed, and then promptly wanted to die. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and I instantly regretted blurting that out. "Um, you know, Elijah Wood. It was a joke, I guess. Kind of. A bad one. More of a reference. Geek culture." His face showed no recognition. "Frodo?" I tried. "Lord of the Rings?"

"Ah, yes, I see now." His dark eyes were unfathomable, and I couldn't tell what he was thinking. When I ran into him, I was a sobbing mess, but now I was attempting and failing to joke around. This is why I didn't date. Shotgun weddings were fine, apparently, but dating never meshed well with me.

"As you can see, I didn't sit at the popular table in high school." Lame cover-up to a lame joke, but I was too far in to slither away now.

Something mischievous twinkled in his eyes, as if he was choosing his words very carefully, and they had a double meaning I wasn't aware of. "Nor did I. You are in safe company here."

"You and this handkerchief, sounds like I'm in good hands," I giggled weakly, then realized the implications of what I'd just suggested. _Holy shit, shoot me in the face._ "Not what I meant, I swear. I'm not coming onto you. Not that you're not worthy of coming onto, you're totally hot, and I'm not blind nor oblivious." _Oh. My. God. Shut. The. Hell. Up. NOW._ Oh great, now he was smirking.

"I'll take that as a compliment." Nervously, I wrung the handkerchief into little knots and avoided his piercing gaze. "This may sound trite of me to ask, but are you all right, Miss Belle?"

"I'm fine," I blurted out before even giving it a second's thought. Elijah flashed me a dubious look, and it assured me that he didn't believe me. I didn't even believe myself anymore. It was just easier to say I was fine then delve into why I wasn't. "Sort of. Relatively speaking. It's a matter of perspective."

He tried a tiny smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. His warm, dark, mysterious eyes . . . _Seriously, shut up, me._ "I can't help but think you aren't."

"Yeah," I forced a dry chuckle, "I've been getting that a lot lately. I had a conversation with my father, and essentially bolted from the restaurant, leaving him high and dry. It was . . . pretty heavy." Why was I telling him this?

One of his dark, shapely eyebrows tweaked up, and he shoved his hands into his well-tailored pant pockets. He was perfect. He was legitimately perfect. "It must have been, if it upset you so much."

I shrugged apologetically, even though I didn't have anything to be sorry for. At least not with him, besides bashing into him. "I don't really like to talk about it." And yet, before he could reply, I was already breaking my own rule and talking about it. I had to talk to someone, and my dad was crossed off the list- at least for tonight. "He thinks I'm pregnant."

He dipped his head in understanding. I mentally face-palmed. Why would a stranger, albeit handsome stranger, want to hear about this? But, alas, I was already continuing, "I'm not, though. At least . . . I can't be. I can't . . . I-I can't have this child with . . . him." At his questioning look, I clarified, "My husband. If he's even . . ." I was about to say "alive," but I caught myself at the last second. And just like that, the stress and heartache of the evening caught up with me once more, and a few tears escaped my eyes. "Ugh, I'm so sorry. You don't even know me. Wherever you have to go, you might as well head there now, I don't want to hold you up."

He made no moves to leave. Blinking away my tears, I gingerly unraveled his handkerchief, and dabbed at my eyes. Some mascara rubbed off onto it. I chuckled without humor. "I must look like a mess."

"I've seen much worse in my time." Well, at least there was that. "There is no need for you to be sorry. And I do not have any pressing matters to handle. Nothing is worth leaving a woman in distress all on her lonesome." In fact, he led me over to the nearest bench once I nodded my consent. "I'm a good listener."

"Well, um, okay then. It's been a bad year," I explained once I sat down, still sniffling. "Two years, really. Three, kind of. The only thing that kept me afloat were my kids."

"You have other children?" he asked with an unfeigned interest. That's all I needed, for someone to listen to me, and not judge me.

I nodded, happy to move on to a more pleasant subject. "Yeah, I do. Twins, four years old. Alexander and Angelica. Here, I have a picture of them in my wallet, I think." Without waiting for a response, I fished through my wallet and plucked out a photo I'd taken with them on their fourth birthdays about two months ago at Chuck E. Cheese.

We were all beaming up at the camera, and I distinctly remembered the hell Cameron had put me through that night after the twins were in bed. If I was pregnant, that was when it was conceived. That had been an isolated incident. Sometimes I had nightmares about it. He'd abused me for a while before, but he'd never crossed that boundary. At least not until that horrible, horrible night.

"Belle?" I jumped. The flashback that plagued my mind that time was particularly real feeling. I shuddered, and shifted my attention back to Elijah, who was looking quite concerned. "You disappeared there for a minute." Yeah . . . I did that an awful lot lately. "May I see the picture?"

What picture? I glanced down at the photo I was gripping so tightly between my fingers it was folding in on itself. _Oops._ "Oh, sorry. Here you go." I smoothed out the crease, and handed it to him.

The corners of his lips curved up into a gentle smile as he admired it. I'll be the first to brag about it, my kids were freakin' adorable, but of course, I was heavily biased. As I may have mentioned before, they inherited their bright orange hair and hazel eyes from me. They didn't look like Cameron much at all, and thus, he accused me of cheating on him until we had a paternity test, proving he was indeed the biological father. Which worked against him when he realized he didn't particularly want to be an involved father. "Your children are beautiful. They take after their mother," he remarked casually as he passed back the photograph.

I looked up at him in shock, trying to gauge whether he was lying or not for my benefit. He seemed to be telling me the truth. Nobody had called me beautiful in years. A light blush crept to my cheeks. "That's, um . . . nice of you to say."

Elijah tilted his head slightly to the side, and I imagined a cute little puppy in his place, with the same big, brown eyes . . . _I swear I'm going insane._ "You sound surprised." And he sounded confused.

Social interactions were so not my thing. Lock me in a room with a full of biology textbooks, a microscope, and a dead body, I thrived. Talking to living people face-to-face, especially men? Not one of my few talents. I decided to go for the honest route. Well, "decided" is a strong term. More like my mouth spewed out whatever it liked to, and my brain had to reluctantly go along with it afterwards. "Nobody's told me that in years, probably for good reason."

He frowned, and the facial gesture sent a knife through my chest. I didn't know him at all, yet I didn't want him to frown. I wanted him to be happy. "Then clearly you haven't been surrounded by the right company." This man was _smooth_.

He was spot-on there, though. Cameron was most certainly not the right company. Since I didn't want to delve any deeper into my problems, I turned the tables and asked, "What about you? What's your story?"

The corners of his lips flattened into a thin, pained smile. "I decided to take a walk, because my brother's company has been less than ideal as of late."

Family issues? Now _that_ I could emphasize with. "Younger or older brother?"

"Younger brother." There was some kind of ancient sadness residing in his deep brown eyes. "He's been a hot mess for . . . quite a long time now. And unfortunately, his life has been turned upside down, and by extension, ours."

"How so?" I asked curiously, tilting my head to one side, then realized how nosy I was being. "That's none of my business, I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that."

He shook his immediately. "No, no, do not apologize. He . . . acquired a pair of long-lost teenager daughters three months ago, and . . . lost them, if you will."

Long-lost daughters? And I thought my family was complicated. "I didn't even really know long-lost children were a thing, besides in, like, _General Hospital_." His facial features showed no recognition. "Er, never mind. What do you mean he lost them?"

"That's a long and painful story, I'm afraid, where he is the sole antagonist." He sighed in regret. "We are looking for them now after their runaway. My nieces haven't had a stable upbringing. They were raised in the foster system in London, and never knew their mother. It seems to have had a serious impact on their behavior and outlook on life. I've grown to care for them, in the short time I'd known them." His lips pursed, like he was considering his next words very carefully. "I . . . I miss them."

My heart broke for him, and without thinking about it, I grabbed one of his hands. We both stared at our intertwined hands for a moment, and clearing my throat, I tugged mine away. That was supremely awkward. "I'm sorry, Elijah. I can't imagine gaining family like that and losing it. I can understand their positions, though. Mothers have an enormous role in how we turn out, and when you lose them at a young age or never had them at all . . . I lost my mother when I was seventeen. It's . . . excruciating, especially when you're close."

"I can't say I was terribly close to mine, at least in the end." Elijah seemed keen to swap the spotlight back to me. "I'm very sorry for your loss. What did she die of, if I may ask?"

I almost spat out the word. "Cancer."

"A malicious opponent," he said gently, and my heart twinged with his sadness. How right he was. "Earlier, you said you were having a conversation with your father. Did you move in with him after your mother's passing?"

And here came the tricky part, the part I was now ashamed to tell. "Er, no." _Ugh, kill me now._ "I had a boyfriend at the time, and I sort of got . . . pregnant. Not sort of. I did. My twins, the ones I showed you earlier. And I married him, which turned out to be the worst mistake of my life." I breathed out a bitter, humorless laugh, but as far as I could see, he wasn't judging me. "My father and I became estranged, because he didn't agree with my choices. We didn't speak for four years. I resented my father for it, but in hindsight, now I know he was right. I moved in with him a month ago, with the twins." I snorted in some kind of twisted amusement. "And our cat." _Can't forget the damn cat._

I didn't understand how we were talking so easily. We'd only just met, and yet fifteen minutes with the man was easier and more comfortable than my four year marriage. Oh, how I loved his eyes. They bore deep into my eyes and soul as he asked me, "Did something in particular . . . spur this on?"

 _You can bet your ass something did._ I chose not to say that aloud. For some reason I couldn't begin to comprehend, I trusted him. More than I trusted Cameron . . . ever. So, I told him the truth. Or at least part of the truth. Still, though, I hadn't told anybody but my father. Not that I really had anybody to tell . . . That was quite sad, actually. I couldn't name a single person anymore I could call a friend. Cameron starting isolating me from others almost as soon as the ring landed on my finger, but I didn't notice until it was too late.

I tucked my orange hair behind my ears just for something to do with my hands as I built up courage. _You can do this._ "My husband was abusive." My heart was pounding like nothing else as I aired my secrets. "He was emotionally manipulative almost right after I married him, but it didn't get worse until later. He, um . . . he beat me." I snuck a glance up at Elijah to see him struggling to maintain his composure. He was not entirely succeeding. "But I handled it. I told myself it was for the twins, that they needed a father, but he was never invested in them like he should've been. Like I was- like I am. But a month ago . . ."

 _Don't cry. Not now. You can do this, just be strong._ This time, it was Elijah who grasped onto my hand . . . and he didn't let go. I absorbed his gesture of encouragement and found strength to keep going. "A month ago, after the kids were in bed, he got drunk and started hitting me. It wasn't any different than before. But he was screaming at me, louder than usual, and I guess it woke the twins up." My fists clenched in barely contained fury, and I only faintly noticed that I must've been a second away from shattering Elijah's hand into fragments. "T-they appeared at the doorway." I sucked in a shuddering breath. "They started shouting at him, begged him to stop hurting me." Stay strong. I bit my lip hard enough that I tasted blood. "He didn't stop, and they kept yelling at him. H-he screamed for them to get out, but they didn't, because they were so scared for me."

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to keep my control. His hand tightened around mine, and for that, I was beyond thankful. "I got in his way when he started heading for them, pleaded for me to hit me, not them, never them . . . He took me up on my word, shoved me into the dresser. And he headed straight for them and . . . He hit them. They're four-fucking-years-old, and he shoved them hard enough for them to hit the wall across the hall, for them to fall to the ground, sobbing and screaming . . ." Rage coursed through my veins instead of blood. If only he were in front of me right now, then I could make absolute certain he was dead. "I lost it. He could hit me all he wanted, and I'd take it. But not them. I pulled him away from them, decked him, and we got into a punching match. He started strangling me, and it ended with me knocking him out with a lamp.

"I took the twins, packed him up in the car, got the goddamn cat, and almost got to drive away before he charged out like a wild fucking buffalo and stood out in front of the road. I-I had to get away, I couldn't take it anymore, so . . ." I shouldn't have told him this. Hell, it was admitting to attempted murder. Or actual murder, who knows? But it just slipped so easily off my tongue. "I ran him over. That's why I've been speaking about him in the past tense. He might be dead. Or not. Honestly, I hope it's the former. Um, I really hope you don't go straight to the police after this conversation."

Elijah attempted to force a smile, but not only did it not reach his eyes, it didn't even reach his lips. "Your secret is safe with me."

The reality of everything I told him crashed onto me. How could I be so stupid? I literally told him about trying to kill my husband. "I cannot believe I just told you all of that. Like, holy shit. I'm so sorry to dump this all on you. You don't even know me."

He looked me right in the eye when he said, "You shouldn't apologize for things you shouldn't be sorry for. What you have been forced to endure is something nobody should suffer through, least of all a kind-hearted young woman such as yourself."

Kind-hearted. Perhaps not when I ran over my husband, my children's father. Not that I regretted it; I would do it again in a heartbeat, to wipe that smirk off the sick son of a bitch's face. Since the wounds were raw and hurting with a whole new ferocity, I changed the subject back to him. "You said you were trying to get away from your little brother. Did he do something to you besides drive your nieces away?"

That, strangely, caused him to chuckle, even though it was obvious he didn't find it funny at all. "Ah, yes. He tends to torture those around him, most of all, his family. All of us have wished malice on him at one point, including my little sister, who is perhaps most loyal to him. Ever since they left, he's been beside himself with worry, and he expresses such a sentiment with outbursts of anger."

"He sounds like an ass," I concluded, and Elijah nodded in fervent agreement. "Then why are you living with him if he's so difficult to be around?"

He sighed deeply. "We're family. Although, sometimes, with our current predicament, I wonder if it's even worth it. I wanted us to be a family again, but . . . My parents are dead, but they attempted to form many schisms between us. There were many years where none of us communicated with the other. I wanted that to change, but now, it's becoming harder and harder to justify that."

Unable to form words, I looked off into the setting sun drifting below the horizon, allowing the blaring notes of jazz consume every inch of me. Soon enough, I'd have to go back home and put my "Mom" hat back on. I bit back a sigh. I loved my kids more than anything else in this world, but I was only twenty-two. Sometimes I needed to delve into the real world, even if it ended up wrecking me.

Before I could shrink back into my shell, I removed my hand from his hold and rummaged through my purse, plucking out a scrap of paper and a pen, scribbling down my cell phone number. This was remarkably out of character for me. "Here," I pushed it into his hand. "I have to get home to my kiddies, but if you want to talk about your douchebag brother, or get together . . . or something," I finished lamely, "ring me up."

Yeah, man, ring up the overemotional potentially pregnant lady with a canyon's worth of baggage. Oh well, it was too late to take back now! He toyed with the slip of paper, and tucked it into his suit pocket. "Have a good evening," I said coyly, beginning to walk in the direction of my father's loft. "Thanks for talking to me." I didn't wait for a response, turning the street corner and picking up my pace.

This was insane. I split from my husband only a month ago, and yet here I was, giving out my number to a stranger. A stranger who now knew my story better than my own father.

I damn near ran the distance back to my father's loft, realizing about halfway there that I was late, and probably had to pay the babysitter extra. Fantastic, just what I needed. Fumbling with the keys, I unlocked the door and burst inside, apologies already tumbling from my lips.

"Mommy!" Angelica shrieked in joy, running toward me with her bright orange spirals of hair bouncing along behind her. A smile coming easily to my lips, I opened up my arms wide and she charged into the hug. "You're home!" She was such a happy, charismatic little girl; it was infectious.

"Hi, my Angel." Standing up and lifting her with me, I scanned the living room for the babysitter, only to find my father lounging on the couch with a beer in one hand and my son in the other, watching some sports game or another. "Nice, Dad," I grumped, dropping my keys and purse onto the granite kitchen counter. "You better have not let him have any."

"What the hell do I look like, some kind of dealer? I'm an oncologist." We glared at each other for a few beats before my shoulders slumped, and I sighed. "I paid the babysitter, got the kiddies in their PJs. Got a little gift for you. It's in a bag near the door." My eyebrows knit together in confusion. Was that supposed to be a joke, or . . . ? Adjusting Angel in my hold so my arm wouldn't continue to lose circulation, I reached into the bag and my heart skipped a beat once I saw the pregnancy test inside. "You've got to be shi- _kidding_ me!"

With that godawful smirk plastered across his face, he sang, "I'm not shi-kidding you."

Maneuvering myself over to the couch, I smacked him over the head with the pregnancy test box then dropped it on top of him, and leaned over to kiss my son on the head. "Hi, Alex."

"Hi, Mommy," he chirped as Dad obviously waved around the pregnancy test like it was some goddamn magic wand. Cloudy the cat was curled up into a little ball next to Alex, purring softly. "Grandpa, what's that?"

"Grandpa's being an idiot, nothing new, baby." We sneered at each other in our lovely father-daughter way. I placed Angel next to her brother, and angrily snatched the pregnancy away from my dad. "Thanks a lot, Father."

I headed to the bathroom and scoffed as he called after me, "You're welcome, daughter!"

So, here I was, peeing on a stick to appease my father. Which was ridiculous and nonsensical, since I wasn't pregnant. There was no freaking way. Well, there was a freaking way, but . . . I couldn't be, not after I finally gathered up the courage to flee from him. I didn't need one more permanent attachment to him.

I sat there for five minutes, but it felt like an eternity. My heart sank into my stomach where it exploded into a fiery ball of acid when I saw the plus sign. " _Fuck_. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_." Angrily, I tossed it into the trashcan, and face-palmed. This was just what I fucking needed.

Clasping the counter with all my might, I glowered at myself in the mirror. Desperate, lost hazel eyes looked back and I blinked back a new round of tears. _I need to stop crying._ The person staring back at me looked weary and exhausted. Purple bags under my almond-shaped eyes and an unhealthy ghostly light to my already pale skin. My typically bright orange hair fell limply to my lower back, its former shine and lush now dull and droopy. Cameron ruined me. Even now that I was away from him, I lived in a constant state of paranoia. I could never be free from him.

Right after, a knock sounded on the door. "Liberty Belle, how's it going in there?" Scowling, I unlocked the door, pulled him in, and kicked it closed again.

"Everything's great. In fact, I'm thinking of throwing a party." When he gave me a pointed look, I lost the attitude and gave way to my fierce vulnerability. "Before you ask, yes, I'm pregnant. You were right. Hurrah for you."

Surprising me immensely, instead of rubbing it in my face like he was so prone to do, he pulled me into him and wrapped me into a fatherly embrace. Which turned out to be just what I needed. I buried my face into his shoulder and sobbed out my fears and hurts and regrets, and he simply held me and listened. "I'm going to have another baby."

He cupped the back of my head like he used to do when I was little. "And I'll be with you every step of the way."

 **A/N: So, what'd you think? Like it, love it, hate it? Yeah, as you may of guessed, this isn't going to be just an Elijah/OC romance, it's also going to turn into Daddy!Elijah for her kids. He already shows a magnificent paternal side in regards to Hope and the twins, so we wanted to give him his own opportunity :). We looooove feedback!**


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